A Song Unending
by KifKathleen
Summary: How might series 4 have looked with Rose in it? The sequel to "Home in Time for Tea" reimagines some key events from the season.
1. Chapter 1 - Rose and Martha and Donna

**Author's Note:** This is a sequel to my story "Home in Time for Tea". I felt bad that Donna had missed the Doctor at Adipose Industries, so I wanted to make sure she caught up to him eventually. And then I started wondering how Rose's presence would affect other events and characters of series four, and this story was born. It presumes that the reader has at least a basic familiarity with the plots of the episodes covered, and hence skips many of the plot details to focus on the character interactions.

The story will not include every episode, only the ones where I felt Rose's presence would have a significant effect: "The Sontaran Stratagem/The Poison Sky", "Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead", "The Stolen Earth/Journey's End", "The Waters of Mars", and "The End of Time".

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Sontaran Stratagem" and "The Poison Sky" by Helen Raynor.

* * *

Rose entered the console room to find the Doctor finishing up a mobile call. "Right, then, I'll be there with bells on." He flipped the phone closed and dropped it into a slot that she had never noticed before.

"Is that my mobile?"

He looked over at her in surprise. "Heavens, no. Who would I be talking to on your mobile?"

"That's just what I was wondering. Shareen is about the only person in this universe who knows that I didn't actually die in the Battle of Canary Wharf, and I couldn't picture you settling in for a chat with her."

The Doctor looked horrified at that thought. "No, no, it's Martha's phone. She left it for me in case she ever needed to get in touch. And apparently she does. She's working for UNIT now, and they've run into a strange situation they'd like my input on. It means we'll have to postpone the trip to Carrigan III, but still, it's nice to be needed, I suppose." He ran a circle around the console, twirling dials and pulling levers.

"Martha Jones? The companion with a crush?" Rose asked, grabbing at the jump seat with practiced ease as the TARDIS lurched.

He winked at her. "Can you blame her?"

"Oh, not in the least. But…you did tell her about me, didn't you?"

"Oh sure, as soon as she set foot in the TARDIS."

"No, I mean just now. On the phone. When you said, '_I'll_ be there.' You did mention that your wife was coming too?"

"Uh…" He frowned in concentration. "No, I don't think it came up, actually."

"So you didn't prepare her?"

He looked puzzled. "Prepare her for what?"

Rose shook her head in frustration. "Oh, you can be such an alien! Or a man. It's hard to tell the difference sometimes."

"Look, I don't know what you're on about. You're thinking she'll be upset to see me with another companion? Can't imagine she would care. It's been months."

"A – I'm not just another companion. And B – it had been years for Sarah Jane."

"Oh." She could tell by the way he paled that he was starting to see her point, but he fixed on a bright smile. "Well, still, that all turned out well in the end. I'm sure Martha will absolutely love you. Come along." He held out his hand as the TARDIS wheezed its rematerialization.

"We're here already?" She was seized with a sudden panic.

He rolled his eyes, smiling. "Welcome to the TARDIS, Rose Tyler. Disappears there, reappears here – sound familiar? Come on, Martha is waiting."

"You go on ahead, have your little reunion. I need a minute to make myself presentable."

He shook his head and winked. "You can be such a human. Or a woman. It's hard to tell the difference sometimes."

She couldn't help laughing, and stuck her tongue out at him as he pulled open the door. Once he was gone, she took a deep steadying breath. She felt as nervous as the first day of school. Martha was important to the Doctor, and that made Martha important to her. She wanted so much for the other woman to like her. But she was afraid that her role as the Doctor's unattainable love during Martha's tenure in the TARDIS would work against her. Rose had learned her lesson from her experience with Sarah Jane: companions should celebrate their commonalities rather than vie for place in the Doctor's affections. Now she just had to hope that Martha could see that too. _It's up to you to set the tone_. She exhaled slowly and stepped outside.

She could see Martha stiffen as she caught sight of her, and Rose's heart sank. "Right, I should have known," Martha said. "Didn't take you too long to replace me, did it?"

"Now, don't start fighting." The Doctor shifted from foot to foot, looking decidedly anxious. _Caught in the middle of a domestic – his worst nightmare_, Rose thought. "Martha, this is Rose. Rose, Martha."

Rose swallowed down the nervousness, gave her sincerest smile and stuck out her hand. "Martha Jones! The Doctor has told me so many wonderful things about you."

Martha gaped as she shook her hand. "Rose? _The_ Rose? He found you?"

Rose laughed. "More like I found him. Would you believe he actually tried to hide from me?" A glint of light caught her eye, and the knot in her stomach began to unravel. Maybe this wouldn't be such an impossible mission after all. "And you – who have you found?"

Martha grinned and waggled the finger with the engagement ring. "His name is Tom Milligan. I met him in the resistance during the Master's year. Of course, after time rewound, he didn't remember any of that, so I had to start all over again with him, but…"

"…But he's worth the effort." Despite her determination not to do anything to provoke Martha's jealousy, Rose couldn't help an affectionate glance at the Doctor.

"I guess you would know about that, yeah?" Martha's smile was a little wistful, but didn't seem to hold any animosity.

"Well, I do hope we get to meet him while we're here," Rose said. The Doctor ran his finger inside his collar and looked as if he were about to make some protest, so Rose shot him a stern look before turning back to Martha. "And I'm so happy to meet you and have the opportunity to thank you. Without you, I wouldn't have had an Earth to come back to. Martha Jones: the woman who saved the world."

Martha blushed. "I don't know about that. I played a part, but it was really the Doctor who saved the world."

Rose took her hands. "But that's what we companions do, isn't it? Save the Doctor, so that he can save everyone else."

Martha smiled and squeezed her hands. And in this acknowledgement of their shared membership in an exclusive club, a bond was sealed and rivalry forgotten.

* * *

Donna Noble's Health and Safety ID badge, the purloined souvenir of one of her shorter temp jobs, had gotten her in the door at Atmos Industries, but it didn't seem to be getting her too far with the dead-eyed pencil-pusher in Human Resources. With bland politeness, the woman had refused all of Donna's attempts to see the personnel files, and answered – or evaded – all inquiries in a rather robotic monotone. "We have no personnel issues." "Our workforce is healthy and content." "There have been no worker complaints."

And it wasn't like there was anyone else in the Personnel office for Donna to try her charms on. Which did seem rather strange, come to think of it. She had never seen such a large company with such a small HR department. There was something fishy going on here, she was sure of it.

All those months searching for a Martian in a blue box by wading through the heaps of online garbage generated by conspiracy freaks. Nutters, the lot of them. Well, there had been that one theory about Adipose Industries – that had turned out to have some truth to it. But by the time she had gotten herself to the scene, it had been all over except for the cleanup. She knew in her bones that the Doctor had something to do with whatever had happened there, but he had been long gone. But this time – this time, she was ahead of the game. Surely he would show up to investigate the same strangeness that had drawn her, and she would be ready when he did.

With this in mind, she was just drawing breath to launch into a tirade demanding access to the Atmos paperwork, when the door to the office burst open and three soldiers charged in. The men seemed somewhat surprised to find themselves outnumbering the staff, but the leader soon recovered, keeping his tone as stiff as his posture. "This is a raid by the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. Surrender now. You will be taken to a holding area." He turned to leave, seeming to take for granted that the captives would fall in meekly between him and his two comrades. But he hadn't yet met Donna Noble.

"Hold up there, mister. I am an inspector with Health and Safety, and I will not be rounded up like a head of cattle." She waved her badge at him.

He walked back to her, snatched the badge out of her hand, and studied it for a moment. "This ID expired six months ago. I'm not sure who you are or what you are doing here, ma'am, but you will wait in the holding area until someone can ascertain this information." The guns held at the ready ensured Donna's obedience, but they didn't stop her from protesting vociferously the entire way.

* * *

Rose shivered as she stepped out of the mobile command station. Colonel Mace eyed her tank top. "Cold, ma'am?"

Rose grimaced and rubbed her arms. "Well, I had just dressed for high summer in the tropics of Carrigan III when we got detoured here."

The colonel nodded to one of the soldiers. "Jenkins, fetch Miss Tyler a jacket."

She felt much better as soon as she slipped the jacket on. And with the UNIT insignia on the sleeve, she didn't have to worry about being mistaken for an Atmos worker and rounded up by an overeager recruit. Which reminded her… "Listen, examining technological doohickeys is much more the Doctor's thing than mine. Would you mind if I go look in on the workers instead?"

When Mace hesitated, the Doctor jumped in. "Oh yes, Rose is very good with people. The domestic approach, you know. She could be quite useful there."

"Fine. Jenkins, accompany Miss Tyler to the holding area."

The holding area was full of workers in overalls, with a handful of business suits scattered throughout – far less office workers than Rose would have expected for such a large operation. But blue collar or white, all seemed unnaturally calm about their predicament, gazing straight ahead with a vacant expression. All except for one: a woman with hair like fire and an attitude to match.

Rose walked up to her. "I must say, you don't quite look like the rest of this lot."

The woman snorted. "And you don't quite look like the rest of that lot." She tossed her head at the guards.

Rose smiled. "Well, I'm sort of…a civilian consultant. What's your excuse?"

The woman glowered at one of the soldiers. "I told that Neanderthal that I am here on a government inspection, but he refuses to believe me." In an instant, she switched from defiant to imploring, tugging at Rose's sleeve. "Listen, I don't know exactly what you are looking for. But obviously you've already noted that the personnel here are a bit…off. I guarantee that Human Resources will hold some interesting answers. And I can find my way around an office blindfolded. I can help you."

Rose hesitated. She didn't have any real authority here, but since UNIT's goodwill toward the Doctor seemed to have extended to her as well… "Jenkins, will you please escort us to the offices?"

"Yes ma'am," he said at once, and Rose smiled, enjoying her new-found clout.

* * *

Donna glanced at the blond woman rifling through the file cabinet next to her. Her jacket marked her as UNIT personnel, but she wasn't in uniform and she seemed more willing to listen to reason than the rest of this by-the-book lot. Maybe Donna could convince her to let her go. She wanted to find the Doctor, true, but she sure didn't want to end up getting locked away in some secret government facility with the rest of these Atmos zombies. Of course, her best chance of getting free was probably to find some useful item that would impress Blondie. She pulled out a binder marked "Sick Leave" and realized that she had just found it. "Here we go! Just like I said – if there's weird stuff going on, you'll always find it in the paperwork."

Just then the guard's radio crackled with some message intelligible only to him. He looked at Blondie. "Miss Tyler, ma'am, you're wanted."

"Yeah, fine, tell the Doctor I'll be there in a mo." She turned to Donna. "What have you got?"

Donna's heart skipped a beat. The Doctor was here! She almost demanded to be taken to him right then and there, but Blondie seemed to be on her side so far, and maybe it was better to try catching flies with honey rather than vinegar for once in her life. So instead she kept her voice even as she explained the significance of a company this size having no sick days on record.

To her credit, Blondie – _Miss Tyler_, Donna corrected herself – caught on quickly. "Right, follow me. I know someone who will definitely want to see this."

_Goal!_ Donna thought, suppressing a triumphant smile as she hurried after Miss Tyler. But when they arrived at their destination, she was met, not with a tall man in a blue suit, but a black woman in a uniform.

"Doctor Martha Jones, meet…oh, I'm sorry, I don't think I got your name."

This was the doctor? _Dumbo_, _that's what you get for jumping to conclusions. It's not exactly an uncommon term. _ "Donna," she whispered, crestfallen. "Donna Noble."

"Nice to meet you, Donna, my name is Rose Tyler." _She's even named Rose. Bitter coincidence. _"Anyway, Martha, Donna here made an interesting discovery. I thought you should hear it."

"Happy to," the doctor said. "But you might want to head outside and rescue Colonel Mace. I think the poor man is being subjected to quite the harangue."

"Can't trust him to behave for more than five minutes on his own," Rose muttered, rolling her eyes and hurrying away, and then Donna was alone with the wrong doctor. _It's not over. If I can stay on the inside, he still might show up._ And so she pasted on a smile and began to explain her findings to Doctor Jones.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Best-Laid Plans

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Sontaran Stratagem" and "The Poison Sky" by Helen Raynor.

* * *

Rose watched the Doctor bound around Rattigan's lab like a kid in a candy shop, identifying all the various experiments. Most of them went over her head, but when he mentioned terraforming… On their honeymoon on the third moon of Hubazuma, he had explained how terraforming had turned a barren rock into the Earth-like resort they were enjoying. So she was not at all surprised when he now turned to Luke Rattigan and said, "With equipment like this, you could move to another planet."

"You're smarter than the usual UNIT grunts, I'll give you that," Luke said as he led them into his front room.

"He called you a grunt!" The Doctor arched his brows at the UNIT driver. "Don't call Ross a grunt. He's nice. We like Ross."

"I notice he doesn't jump in to defend you," Luke said to Rose, a sneer twisting his boyish face.

The Doctor, hands shoved in his pockets, rocked on his heels. "What, Rose? She doesn't need defending. For one thing, don't let the jacket fool you, she's not with UNIT. And for another, she's not a genius when it comes to all that" – he waved his hand in the direction of the lab – "But she's smarter than you where it counts. For instance, all that equipment in there – you didn't develop it all on your own, it's much too far ahead of its time. That means you had help from an outside source, most likely with strings attached. And Rose, she would know better than to trust an alien who's offering easy access to advanced tech."

"Oh, I don't know." Rose waved her hand with airy nonchalance. "Depends on the tech. And the alien. I mean, I'd be hard pressed to say no to an alien with a northern accent and a timeship."

"Right, good point. I should say, she would know better than to trust an alien who's offering advanced tech in exchange for help with world domination."

"Yes, see," she said to Luke with a confidential air, "Like if an alien refuses to even accept a salute, that's a clear sign that he's not power-mad, and you can probably trust him not to take over the world."

"Indeed," concluded the Doctor, a daft smile crinkling his eyes.

Luke looked back and forth between them. "You're both absolute nutters." A bare minute later, the Doctor proceeded to prove him at least half right by teleporting himself onto a Sontaran ship.

* * *

"You know," Rose said a short while later, after an well-placed squash serve had enabled them to escape the Sontaran general, "Landing yourself in the middle of a warship and then letting 'Staal the Undefeated' follow you back probably wasn't one of your more well-thought-out plans."

"So you are saying that some of my plans _are_ well thought out? I'll take that as a compliment." He grinned at her. "And anyway, at least now we know who we are dealing with." The Doctor tried to raise central command on the radio again and then tossed the receiver into the back seat in frustration.

"What's wrong with the radio?" Ross asked.

"Must be the Sontarans. And if they can trace that, then fleeing in an Atmos-equipped jeep is yet another ill-conceived plan." It was a prediction that proved well-founded as the truck took on a mind of its own and headed for the river. But what was a good plan was ordering Atmos to do exactly the opposite of what they wanted. In contradiction of the Doctor's orders, the jeep halted inches from the water's edge.

As the satnav began barking out random directions in an increasingly distorted voice, the three dashed from the vehicle, and the Doctor threw himself on top of Rose. There was a small pop, a puff of smoke, and then all was quiet.

The Doctor sat up cautiously. "Oh, was that it?" He helped Rose to her feet, and eyed the grass stains on her knees. "Another poor plan, I suppose."

"In hindsight, an unnecessary one," Rose said, trying in vain to dust herself off. "But since you weren't to know that, and since you were trying to protect me, I would hesitate to call it a poor one." She gave him a kiss. "Now off you go, do what you do." He beamed at her and bounded back to the jeep.

* * *

_So much for staying on the inside_, thought Donna as she drove home, a sour expression twisting her mouth. The bloke in charge, General Mace or something, had come in while she was talking with Martha. After the doctor had left to examine the workers, Mace had politely thanked Donna for her help and then firmly informed her that she would no longer be required. An escort had been provided to ensure that she went on her way.

Donna had considered doubling back and trying to sneak back in, but frankly at this point she was rather discouraged. She had told herself that finding the Doctor was the door to a fuller, more exciting life, but it was starting to feel like a fool's errand. _Mum is right, you're just frittering your life away, great useless lump of.._. Angry tears all but blinded her; she dashed them away and then had to slam on her brakes as she saw the two figures in the road waving her down.

The pair ran up to her window, and she gasped as she recognized them. "Rose?"

"Donna?"

"What are you doing here?"

Rose grimaced. "We had a bit of trouble with Atmos. Well, when I say a bit, I mean it tried to kill us." She gestured towards the jeep perched perilously close to the river, with someone half-hidden under the open bonnet. "Listen, I know you've already been plenty inconvenienced today, but would you mind very much giving us a lift?"

Donna wondered if this was the universe's way of telling her not to give up yet. She opened her mouth to agree, but the UNIT soldier beat her to the reply. "I don't know, ma'am, doesn't seem wise to jump right into another Atmos vehicle."

Rose chewed her lip as she pondered that. Donna knew she had to speak fast, or her chance would slip away again. "I live just a mile that way. We could be on my street in two minutes, and from there I'm sure you could find a car to commandeer without Atmos installed."

The other two looked at each other and nodded. Rose turned towards the jeep, cupping her hands around her mouth and hollering, "Oi! We've got a lift! Allons-y!"

Donna knew him the instant he emerged, blue suit, long tan coat, wild hair and all. She threw her door open and jumped out as she watched the object of months of searching lope across the grass. He hadn't seen her yet; he was too fixated on doing something to a rectangular piece of metal with that thing he claimed was a screwdriver.

"It's no good," he said as he arrived at the car. "I think it's burned out. We'll need to find another…"

"Doctor!" Donna's squeal was high enough to shatter glass.

His head snapped up and his eyes lit with recognition. "Donna! Donna Noble!" He wrapped her in a big hug, which was a bit uncomfortable with the large metal object in his hand pressing into her back. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you!"

"Great," said Rose with a good-natured smile. "How many more of your old girlfriends are we going to run into on this trip?"

"Oh, but Donna's not just any old girlfriend. She left her fiancé at the altar to run away with me." Rose's smile faltered, and the Doctor took pity. "I'm joking. Well, mostly joking, I mean, she did get sucked out of the church and end up on the TARDIS, but it wasn't by choice for either of us. It's a long story involving an obsolete form of energy, the empress of a nearly extinct race and your personal favourite, killer brass-band Santas."

Rose laughed and threw up her hands. "OK, I'd love to hear it sometime, but for now I think we'd better hurry and find another ride before the Sontarans figure out that we're not dead."

* * *

At Donna's house, Ross set off to find another car and Rose called Martha to alert UNIT to the involvement of the Sontarans, while the Doctor busied himself pulling the carbon converter out of Donna's car. Donna leaned against the door, giving her distracted audience an account of her life since last they had met.

"And Egypt was beautiful and all, but that's when I realized that it wasn't what I was looking for. You know, facing the Racnoss – I mean, it was terrifying, don't get me wrong, but I felt like I was really _experiencing_ life. I felt like I was making a difference. I felt like I made a difference to you."

He looked up at that. "You did, Donna. You were right, I needed someone to stop me, and you did."

As the Doctor lost himself in his task again, Rose wrinkled her brow in sympathy. "You know, I turned down his first offer too."

"Really? So how did you find him again?"

Rose blushed. "Well, I didn't have to. He showed up again about ten seconds later."

"Three days, actually." The Doctor was leaning over the engine, peering at the converter, so focused on his work that Rose wasn't sure that he was speaking to her.

"What?"

"Ten seconds for you, but three days for me."

"You never told me that! You were still wearing the same jumper."

"Oi, I washed it!" He shot her an offended look. "Anyway, I would have come back sooner, but it took that long to figure out what I could say that might change your mind."

She nudged him with her hip. "Could have saved yourself some time. I knew the instant you were gone that I had made a mistake, and I wasn't about to make the same one twice."

A slow smile spread across his face, but he was prevented from replying by the arrival first of Donna's grandfather Wilf and then of her mother Sylvia, with their vastly different reactions to renewing the Doctor's acquaintance. And then Sylvia's accusation that disaster followed in his wake seemed to be borne out when his sonic tinkering triggered the release of noxious gas, not just from Donna's converter but all across the globe.

As Sylvia helped Wilf from the car that had nearly become his tomb and everyone pulled their collars across their noses, Ross pulled up in an antique but Atmos-free ride. Rose dived for the back seat; the Doctor headed for the front, but then stopped and looked back. "Donna, you coming?"

"Are you insane? She's not going anywhere with you!" Sylvia's screech made clear that Donna had come by her own strident voice honestly. But Wilf nudged Donna forward with an enthusiastic "Go on, girl!"

Donna took a hesitant step. "Do you really mean it? I wasn't sure…I didn't know if…I mean, you've got Rose now, and…"

"Yeah, but we could use a mate. And you did go to all the trouble of tracking me down."

Rose leaned out of the window. "You've seen the TARDIS. Plenty big enough for three."

And with that confirmation of her welcome, Donna ran towards her new life.

* * *

By the time they reached the UNIT command centre, the humans were finding it difficult to breathe.

"It's not so bad for me," the Doctor said to the two women. "Why don't you go wait in the TARDIS for now?"

Rose drew breath to protest, but that action sent her into a coughing fit, and she allowed Donna to drag her away. The air in the TARDIS was fresh and clean, and Rose sagged against the console in relief, while Donna paced around, bouncing in excitement, taking in every detail of her new surroundings. But both relief and excitement were short-lived; a few moments later, a hard jolt staggered them both. Rose flipped on the monitor and paled.

"What is it?" Donna asked.

"I…I think we are on the Sontaran ship," was the strained reply.

Donna fought back her panic. "Well, can you fly this thing?"

"Some. But that doesn't help us. If they teleported it once, they can just teleport it right back again if we try to take off."

"So what do we do?" she asked, voice rising.

Rose's outward calmness was belied by her hard swallow. "For the moment, nothing. We're safe in here. I have it on good authority that the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through those doors. We wait for the Doctor."

They didn't have to wait long; they were soon tied in to the conference between the Doctor and General Staal. The Doctor was as unflappable as ever, even when the image of the captured TARDIS appeared on the screen. "As prizes go, that one is _noble. _I salute you, Staal; you _rose_ to the occasion."

"That's us! He's talking to us! We're here, Doctor!" Donna cried, as Rose shushed her impatiently.

The Doctor went on a bit longer about phone boxes and communication and remote controls, until Staal cut off the transmission. Donna paced, hands on hips, tension imparting a sharp edge to her voice. "What now? He wants us to call somewhere. Who do we call? What are we supposed to do? And if he's got a remote, why doesn't he just zap us back now?"

"Take a breath. He'll call us. And he can't fly the TARDIS remotely; that was a bluff, although I'm not sure why…" Rose clutched at the console as the timeship began moving. "Ah, I see, he scared the Sontarans into moving us. Don't worry, he always has a plan." She chose to omit the fact that they weren't always very good ones.

It wasn't long before Rose's mobile was ringing. "The Sontarans have deadlocked the teleport links. I need you to reopen them," the Doctor said without preamble.

"Right, just tell me what to do."

"First off, can you get out of the TARDIS without being seen?"

Rose checked the monitor. "Yeah, there's just one guard, and he has his back to us."

"Excellent. There's a hole at the back of his neck – the probic vent. One good blow to that will knock him out."

"I remember. No squash balls handy, but this mallet should do the trick." She gave an anxious Donna a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, then crept out the door and swung with all her might. She let out a shaky breath as the soldier hit the ground. "First step, check. Now what?"

She followed his directions to the door on the far side of the room, fitted her hand into the three-fingered switch to open it – and came face to face with a line of Sontarans about to march through. There was no time to hide, no time to run, no time to do anything except thumb the phone off. Whatever happened next, she didn't want the Doctor to have to hear it.


	3. Chapter 3 - Sontar-ha

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Sontaran Stratagem" and "The Poison Sky" by Helen Raynor.

* * *

Donna was so engrossed in the scene playing out on the monitor that it took her a moment to register the ringing of a mobile. She traced the sound back to a niche in the console and snatched the phone up.

The Doctor's voice was strained almost beyond recognition. "Donna, what just happened?"

"They found her. The Sonteruns. There was nothing she could do. She just opened the door and there they were." Her voice held a note of hysteria.

"Is she –?" She could hear his breath hitch on the other end of the line, and she hastened to reassure him.

"No! They've marched her away. She's out of sight now, but last I saw, she was okay."

There was a long pause, then he said, "Donna, I need you to finish what she started. You need to open the teleport links."

"What?" Even she winced at the pitch of her voice. "A time like this, and you're worried about some stupid teleport? You need to be thinking about Rose!"

"I am!" he shouted, loud enough to make her pull the phone from her ear. He took a deep breath, got control of himself. "But I can't do anything for her without the teleport. Please, Donna. It's all up to you."

Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But…what if they find me too? What if they kill me?"

"I know, Donna. I am so sorry, I really am so very sorry. But there is nothing else I can do. You can do this, Donna. You can make a difference. You are the only one who can."

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and took a deep breath. "Right. Talk me through it."

* * *

Rose was trying very hard to control her trembling. From the little she knew about Sontarans, she doubted that a display of fear would motivate them to mercy.

Staal eyed her like she was a steer on the auction block. "You are brave for a female. The Doctor's woman. Legend says that he is the last of the Time Lords. But I see that the legends are wrong."

It took her a beat to realize what he meant. She lifted her chin, narrowed her eyes. If they respected attitude, she would give them attitude. "I am not a Time Lord…Lady…whatever. I am human. That is my home you are attacking, and I will defend it."

"Human?" Staal turned towards Rose's guard. "You said she incapacitated Stong?"

"Yes, sir. Out cold, sir."

"Infiltrated a Sontaran ship, struck down a Sontaran soldier. A _human_ female?" His incredulous tone showed where he ranked Earth women in his already-low estimation of the feminine gender in general. He looked her over again. "You do not appear particularly strong for your species."

"A clever warrior may often succeed over a strong one." She wasn't sure how much cleverness was involved in happening to be on a teleported ship, but since she suspected that their belief in her military prowess was the single thing keeping her alive, she was certainly going to play it up.

"Indeed." He considered for a moment, then turned to his troops, holding up his hands for an announcement. "The human woman has proven herself an adversary worthy of respect."

"Sontar-ha!" all the soldiers in the room chorused, striking palms with fists, and Rose got the strange impression that they were saluting her.

Staal turned back to her, but pitched his voice loud enough for all to hear. "We will conquer your Earth without battle, so I regret that you will not have the honour of a glorious death in its defence. But I promise you this: When our mission is completed, we will arrange a contest of arms. You will face a Sontaran warrior in single combat, and that too will be an honourable death."

"Sontar-ha!" the soldiers shouted again, as Staal gave her a half-bow.

She returned the gesture, hiding her relief behind a poker face. She had as few illusions as they did about who would win such a contest, but at least it meant that she had bought the Doctor some time to save her. The Doctor could do anything, she was sure, if he were given the time.

* * *

The Doctor was used to juggling multiple trains of thought, but this was a bit much even for him: his worry for Rose, his worry for Donna, working out what the Sontarans were planning to do with the caesofine gas, rejiggering the teleport pod, trying to plan three steps ahead of the enemy. But in the midst of all this, he still managed to carve out a space to feel for Martha's dying clone.

She wasn't a clone in the proper sense, he supposed. She wasn't an autonomous entity as were the Sontarans. Her life dependent upon Martha's remaining connected to the clone generator; her mind dependent on the thought patterns programmed into her by the Sontarans and on the memories borrowed from her original. Not truly a sentient being; more of an avatar, a puppet, an organic robot. He still felt her loss as she exhaled her last.

But there was no time to mourn, because Donna was whispering into the phone, "Doctor! Blue switches done. But they've found me." He made one last adjustment, aimed the screwdriver at the control panel, and then Donna was in his arms, trying to hug him and beat him at the same time.

He gave her a brief pat that he meant to be comforting, then pushed her away and jumped into the teleport pod. He punched in some coordinates, closed his eyes, hoped with all his might that the Sontarans had left the teleport nodes on the TARDIS and that he wouldn't end up on the warship's bridge, and activated the teleport. His eyes opened to the welcome sight of the TARDIS console room. "Oh yes! You beautiful thing, you!" He planted a kiss on the monitor.

A scan of the ship revealed one human heartbeat distinct among all the alien ones. "Hold on, love, I'm coming."

He intended to materialize the TARDIS around her, just like he had done when rescuing her from the Daleks. But as happened more often than he cared to admit, the landing was just a little off. A glance at the monitor showed Rose about ten feet away, surrounded by Sontarans, an expectant smile on her lips, no doubt thinking that he knew exactly what he was doing. _Here goes nothing._

He threw open the door, stepped out, and was met by the barrels of at least twenty lasers. He threw his hands up to show he was unarmed, drew himself to his full height, towering over the enemy, and cast his voice as deep as he could. "General Staal! I seek parley!"

The general signaled, and the aim of the soldiers relaxed somewhat, although not nearly enough to suit the Doctor. "Staal, you have captured some things that belong to me, and I have come to get them back. You can see I have already retaken my ship. Now I am here to reclaim my wife. I challenge you to battle for her."

"The female warrior has already accepted a challenge. Would you deny her that honour?"

_Female warrior? Impressive, Rose._ "But what about my honour? What about yours? Come on, Staal; if we fight, if you win, you still have her as prisoner, plus you get the distinction of destroying the last Time Lord. Or is that it – you are afraid that you won't beat me, that Staal the Undefeated might be, you know, defeated?"

The Sontaran drew himself up, back ramrod straight. "I fear nothing! I accept your challenge. Prepare to die, Time Lord."

"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait just a second," the Doctor said when it appeared that Staal was ready to launch an attack at that instant. "First off, I want to make sure that she has not been damaged. Permit me an inspection." He hoped Rose wouldn't kill him later for speaking about her as if she were chattel. _Just putting it in terms they can understand._

Staal gestured his assent, the Doctor beckoned, and Rose walked on eggshells through the midst of the Sontarans. He took her hand in his, raising it overhead, slowly turning her as if they were dancing, making a show of checking her over. "Just like the Blitz," he said, voice low, lips barely moving. "You still remember how to spin?"

"Think so."

He brought their arms down, pulling her close, then spun her out fast and hard through the doorway of the TARDIS. She followed his lead expertly, and he dived after her, slamming the door shut to the sound of laser blasts and Sontaran outrage. They stared at each other for a moment, hearts pounding, then both burst out laughing and fell into each other's arms.

"I can't believe they just let me walk right up to the door of the TARDIS!" Rose said when she could breathe again.

"Sontaran mentality. It would never occur to them that someone would issue a challenge and then run away – simply inconceivable. Death before dishonour."

"So you just disgraced yourself."

He shrugged. "Not the first time, probably not the last. I've said it before: coward, me."

She ran a hand through his hair. "A coward never would have stepped out that door."

He smiled at her for a long moment, then pulled away and ran for the console. "Well, no time for dilly-dallying. The air is getting thicker by the minute down there. First a quick stop to pick up the rest of my harem," he said, dodging Rose's laughing punch, "And then it's off to Rattigan Academy for a lesson in terraforming Terra."

* * *

"Now we're in trouble!" As the last of the noxious gases burned away and the humans cheered, the Doctor's grin was, as usual, at odds with his words of warning. He scooped up the terraformer and they all ran inside, a task that was much easier now that they could breathe freely. The Doctor headed for the teleport pod, making adjustments to the machine as he went. Then he turned to face his companions. "Right. Donna. Thank you for being so amazing on that ship. Martha, thanks to you too, oh so many times. Rose, I –"

"No!" Rose's voice was low and hard. "Don't you dare say goodbye. Whatever you are planning, just don't."

"Why is he saying goodbye?" Donna whispered.

"Sontarans are never defeated," the Doctor said. "They'll be getting ready for war. And, well, I've recalibrated this for Sontaran air, so…"

Martha realized where this was leading. "So you're going to ignite them."

Rose shook her head, folded her arms, her face a stony mask. "No. You can't do this."

"She's right," Martha said, "Just send that thing up on its own. I don't know, put it on a delay."

His eyes were dark and somber. "I can't. I've got to give them a choice."

Rose's voice was rising. "You know what they will choose. You said it yourself. They're never defeated. Death before dishonour. I won't let you get yourself killed just to ask a question that you already know the answer to!"

He was breaking her heart with his tender look, his gentle tone. "I have to, Rose. You know I have to."

"I know you have to give them a choice. I know you can't destroy them unless it is the absolute last resort to save us all. I love that about you. But don't do it like this, not by throwing your life away for a lost cause. Find another way."

"Rose–"

"You are not leaving me, not now, not for the Sontarans. Find another way."

"Rose, love–"

She was shouting now, chest heaving, angry tears spilling from her eyes. "You are a genius! FIND ANOTHER WAY!"

There was a long pause while he stared at her, and she could just about see his brain spinning, and then he broke into a grin and grabbed her hand. "Come with me," he said, pulling her into the teleport, and then they were gone.

The sudden silence stretched on until it was broken by Donna's uncharacteristically soft voice. "Did he just drag her along on a suicide mission?"

Martha had no answer.


	4. Chapter 4 - Alter Ego

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Sontaran Stratagem" and "The Poison Sky" by Helen Raynor.

* * *

"A clone? That's your solution?" Rose asked in disbelief as the Doctor settled himself into the clone generator and prepared to crown himself with the telepathic connector.

"Not really a true, full-fledged clone. Think of it as a remote-controlled me. It will look like me, it will think like me. But it will exist only so long as it is connected to me." And before she could protest, he had shoved the connector onto his head, flipped a switch, and sagged back, unconscious.

Rose watched, caught somewhere between fascination and horror, as a form arose from the steaming green pool before her. The Doctor's clone looked around, dazed, but his vision seemed to clear as he focused on Rose. He gave her a sad smile, carefully stepped out of the pool, and picked up the terraformer.

"You don't have to do this," she said as he headed for the teleport pod.

"You know I do," he said gently.

"But I mean, _you_ don't have to do this. Just because you were generated from him…we have no right to expect this of you. He has no right to…" She was on the verge of tears, and she wasn't even sure what she was arguing for. She certainly didn't want her Doctor to face the Sontarans. But neither did she want this clone to pay the price. She didn't want any of this.

He reached out to stroke her hair, then noticed that his hands were still wet with clonefeed and pulled back. "But I _am_ him. I am part of him. I am his mind in a temporary body. And I am not doing anything that he is not willing to do himself. Besides, it's an honour. It's not every day one gets to save the world."

She half-laughed, half-sobbed. "Seems like at least once a week for you."

He smiled. "And then, I'll get to redeem myself before the Sontarans. They think fighting open-skinned is an honour? Try fighting completely starkers!" That wrung a watery smile from her. He turned to go, then stopped. "I don't know what will happen if we're still connected when I… You'd best disconnect him as soon as I teleport. I'll still have enough time to do what needs to be done." He stepped into the pod, gave her a wave and a smile, and vanished.

She pulled the telepathic connector off of the Doctor's head. He sat up with a gasp, then fell backwards again as Rose collapsed on top of him, sobbing into his shoulder. He didn't shush her, didn't try to stop her tears, just rubbed her back and dropped kisses on the top of her head while she cried. It was the sound of the teleport powering down that roused her. She lifted her head, looked at the pod, looked at him. "Is that…?"

"It's over." And she could see in his eyes that he too was mourning this half-being, this piece of him, the creature born only to be destroyed.

"Right." She sat up, drew a shuddering breath, wiped her eyes. "We'd better get back. The others will wonder where we are."

* * *

By the time the UNIT jeep pulled up in front of the Rattigan Academy, the Doctor and Rose were more or less back to their normal selves, if somewhat subdued. Donna and Martha came flying down the front steps to meet them in a four-way hug. Luke trailed behind, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his pockets, guilty and awkward.

Donna was the first to pull away, stepping back with hands on hips. "What happened? The teleport shut down an hour ago. We thought you were dead."

"Ah." The Doctor smiled sheepishly. "I sort of forgot that I had left the TARDIS here. And with the teleport disabled, we had to take the slow way back." He gestured to the jeep.

"But what _happened_?"

A shadow crossed his face. "A story for another day, Donna." He pasted on a smile and clapped his hands. "Right, then, off to the TARDIS, everyone!" He led the group across the lawn, then spun on his heel and jabbed a finger at Luke trotting after them. "Not you. You, I'm sure UNIT will want to have a word with. And when they're done with you, go do something clever with your life. Preferably something that doesn't involve selling out the human race."

As the doors of the TARDIS closed behind them, he asked, "So where are we off to? Martha?"

"Oh, just a lift home for me, ta."

"Really?" he said, disappointed. "Not just one more adventure for old times' sake?"

She lifted the hand with the engagement ring. "Thanks, but I've found an adventure of my own. It's waiting for me at home."

He gave her a proud paternal smile. "That's my Martha. Go have a brilliant life." He turned to the newest member of the crew. "All right, then, Donna, your choice. Do you know where you want to go?"

Donna grinned. "Oh yes, I know exactly where."

And that was how the TARDIS ended up buzzing Wilf's star-gazing hill, as Donna waved from the doorway, her face alight with excitement, and the Doctor and Rose leaned against the console, arm in arm, heads resting together with matching contented smiles.


	5. Chapter 5 - River

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "Silence in the Library" and "Forest of the Dead" by Steven Moffatt.

* * *

Donna swirled her spoon around her teacup, looking as bored as she felt. "Time and space, you promised me. Remind me why we're sitting in a square in the middle of Cardiff?"

The Doctor raised the book he was reading a little higher, as if to block her out. "Just refueling. We'll be ready to go in an hour."

She sighed and peered at his title. "_The Effects of Quantum Gravitational Fields on Temporal Distortion._ Sounds like a real pageturner. Don't you have anything more interesting in that library of yours?"

He lowered the book with exaggerated patience. "Tell you what, Donna. Once we're topped up here, I'll take you to the biggest library in the universe. Takes up an entire planet. Every book ever written. I'm sure you can find something that would interest you there."

"Doesn't exactly sound like the adventure I signed up for, but I suppose a good book could come in handy the next time we're sitting around waiting for you to rejigger some whosiewhatsit in the control room," she said grudgingly as the Doctor buried his head back in the book.

Rose bounced into the kitchen, looking particularly chipper. "Just got off the phone with Shareen. She had the baby last week."

"Did she now. That's nice." The Doctor's distracted tone made it clear he wasn't really listening.

"Little girl. They named her Rose."

That earned a genuine reaction from him. He raised his head, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and smiled at her. "Ah, a new Rose in the world, how sweet!"

She grinned. "I know, ain't it? But anyway, they can't afford for Pat to take more than a week off from work, and her mum was there, but Shareen sent her home 'cause she was driving her crazy, and she could really use some help and someone to talk to who's old enough to talk back, so I was thinking, we could pop by there, and…"

"Rose," he said, closing his book with a snap, "You know I –"

"…Don't do domestic," both women chorused. The Doctor looked a bit nonplussed.

Rose continued, "But I'm not asking you to, see. Just drop me off, go have yourself a lark, and come back for me in a few days. You'll have Donna for company."

"Have you forgotten that you're still officially dead?"

"Well, then I just won't apply for a passport, will I?" she said with saccharine sweetness.

"But Rose, you can't go now," he said in a voice dangerously close to a whine, "I was just telling Donna that I would take her to The Library."

Rose frowned. "It's right down the hall, I think she can find her way there by now."

"No, not _our_ library, _The_ Library, the planet. I'm sure I've told you about it before."

"Well, see, that's perfect. You two can go enjoy this library while I help Shareen out. Nice, quiet trip, I won't feel envious about missing out on an adventure. "

"But –"

"Can't wait to see her. I haven't held a baby since Tony."

That ended the discussion. It was a low blow, invoking the name of the little brother she had left behind when she returned to the Doctor, but Rose figured it was fair turnabout for the time he had lured her away from the mother who had thought her dead for a year with tales of storm surfing in the Horsehead Nebula. It hadn't been until much later that she had realized that, with a timeship at their disposal, they could easily have taken tea with Jackie and still been in plenty of time for the celestial display.

* * *

_Vashta Nerada,_ the Doctor thought, _This was supposed to be a tranquil little visit. How did we end up running from Vashta Nerada?_ Just a few hours before, he had been muttering imprecations against Shareen for taking Rose from his side. Now Shareen and her baby were about his favourite people in the universe, because they meant that Rose at least was safe. Donna, on the other hand…Donna was still his responsibility. Whoever had sent the message to his psychic paper that had inspired him to offer Donna this trip, they weren't here now, and he didn't have time to stick around waiting for them to show.

"Come along, Donna, it's time to go." He took her hand and started tugging her towards the exit, but they were stopped in their tracks when the doors flew open to admit six space-suited figures. The leader marched straight up to the Doctor and smiled.

"Hello sweetie."

"Get out," he snapped back. "I mean it, all of you, turn around and leave right now." But the newcomers seemed remarkably unfazed by the sternest warnings and lectures and glowers he could muster. Helmets came off, confidentiality agreements came out, and they all wandered around in a state of general unconcern, while the Doctor trembled with fear and frustration and Donna was torn between laughing at his impotence and cowering at whatever it was that had him so scared.

Only the lead archaeologist, River Song, paid him any heed, and the Doctor got the impression that it was more because she was waiting to see him do something clever than because she felt any real anxiety about the situation. Still, at least she helped him to corral the expedition members into some semblance of obedience to his instructions.

Once everyone was busy setting up lights and accessing data logs, she called him over to a desk in the corner. Well, actually, she called for "Pretty Boy"; it took several repetitions plus a prompt from Donna before he realized that he was the one being summoned. He snorted – _wouldn't Rose be loving this_ – and trotted over to her.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For coming when I called."

"Oh, that was you?" It was more statement than question. Anyone cheeky enough to greet a complete stranger with "Sweetie" was certainly the type to sign a message with a kiss.

"You're doing a very good job of acting like you don't know me. I assume you have a reason."

"Fairly good one, actually, yeah."

She didn't press the issue, just pulled out a blue notebook and started flipping through it, running on about places and events that they had seen or would yet see or might possibly…he was having trouble following it all, and he was a Time Lord.

Finally she stopped herself mid-sentence to peer into his eyes. "Look at you," she breathed, "You're so young!"

He bit back a laugh at that. "Oh, but I'm really not, you know."

"Oh, but you are! You're younger than – " The color drained from her face. She looked properly anxious for the first time since she had arrived, and he wondered what realization could possibly have spooked her more than the spectre of the Vashta Nerada. He certainly wasn't expecting what came out of her mouth next. "How many hearts do you have?"

"Excuse me?"

But rather than repeat the question, she leaned forward and slipped her hand inside his suit jacket to lay it against his right breast.

"Oi!" He flinched back and batted her hand away. "Watch it!"

She didn't seem to register his reaction, just sat back with a stunned expression. "Two. Two hearts."

"Well, if you knew enough to ask, I shouldn't think it would be that big a surprise," he said testily, straightening his jacket, his dignity rather bruised by her unexpected liberty.

She leaned forward again. "Do you have a brother?"

"A brother? No, not anymore."

"Not anymore? Did he – " She looked panicked for a second, then closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, you're referring to the Time War. A twin – do you have a twin?"

"Nope, never did."

River opened her eyes again, looking so lost that, despite his irritation, the Doctor couldn't help but feel his hearts clench in painful sympathy. "So you're him. But you're not him, at least not yet. But you will be, except you won't be, because you'll still be you, and he'll…this is giving me a headache."

"What are you on about?" he asked, completely baffled and a bit concerned.

Her laugh sounded forced. "Oh nothing, don't mind me. Just tell me, who is the woman with you?"

"Donna? She's a friend."

"Donna? That's Donna Noble?" River brightened considerably. The Doctor was starting to wonder about her mental stability. "But wait, if Donna is with you, Rose should be here too. Where is Rose?"

The Doctor stiffened. He had already concluded that River was from his future. It wasn't the first time he had met someone out of order, and usually he could take it in stride. But this strange woman who knew both so much and so little about him, with her odd questions and her diary and her ramblings about him-and-not-him – she had him seriously unnerved. He didn't know who she was to him or what she wanted, didn't know if he could trust her; and her interest in his companions struck him as suspicious. He crossed his arms, his expression hard. "She's fine and she's safe and that's all you need to know."

Whatever River's response would have been, it was lost when an alarm went off on the computer terminal. And then a great many things began happening in rapid succession: the appearance of a little girl on the monitor, the death and ghosting of Miss Evangelista, the Doctor's chicken-leg demonstration of the capabilities of the Vashta Nerada, and the emergence of a second shadow on Proper Dave. In all the flurry of events, the Doctor forgot the mystery of River Song, even began to bounce ideas off of her almost as naturally as he would with Rose or Donna. But this camaraderie came to an abrupt halt when, in response to a plan to increase the density of the suits, she pulled a small device from her pocket.

The Doctor stared. "What is that?"

"It's a screwdriver."

"It's sonic."

"I know."

"It looks exactly like mine."

"I know."

"Is it mine?"

She gave him an infuriating smirk. "Well, obviously not, since yours is right there in your hand."

"Riiivvvverrr." There was a warning in the way he stretched out her name, in the way his voice came from deep in his chest. "You know what I mean. Did it belong to future me?"

There was a slight hesitation. "No."

"River! I designed the screwdriver myself. There is nowhere else you could have gotten one just like it."

"Do we have to have this discussion right this minute?" said Donna in her most strident voice. River threw her a grateful look and set to work with her screwdriver. The Doctor glared for a moment more, lips compressed to a thin line, before following suit.

* * *

Things were not going well. First they had lost Miss Evangelista, then Proper Dave, then Donna – and the Doctor still didn't even know how that last had happened. He felt sick to his stomach every time he pictured Donna's face on the information node, and even sicker when he imagined having to explain to Rose that their friend was gone and it was all his fault.

And now his screwdriver, his one asset in identifying the Vashta Nerada, was malfunctioning. River appeared over his shoulder. "Try the red setting."

"It doesn't have a red setting."

"Try the dampers."

"It doesn't have dampers."

"It will do one day." She held her screwdriver out to him.

He was angry and guilt-stricken and feeling the stirrings of panic, and this seemed to him the last straw. He jumped to his feet to face her. "I need to know right now, River, where did you get that from? "

"I didn't pluck it from your cold, dead hands, if that's what you're worried about."

"And I know that because…?"

She sighed. "Listen, I know you're upset about Donna, but you need to be less emotional right now. She is not dead, and if anyone can get us all out of here and rescue her to boot, it's you, but only if you stay focused."

"What are you talking about?" he said, voice rising. "Donna is gone. Her face is on a statue!"

"Gone, but not dead. You can still get her back."

"How do you know?" he shouted.

She shouted right back, "Because my memories haven't been rewritten!"

That shocked him. In a quieter voice, he asked, "What memories? You didn't even know who she was."

"I'd never met her before, no. But she will play a key role in the life of someone who plays a key role in mine. And the memory of that hasn't been erased. Until it has, it means we can still get her back."

The Doctor took a deep breath, feeling like the crushing weight on his chest had gotten just a few pounds lighter. "You still haven't answered me about the screwdriver. You say it's not from me, but even if that is true – and I'm not convinced it is – then it's only a technicality, because we both know that is _my_ screwdriver."

River looked away, then back up at him. "I'm really very sorry, but I can't explain. Spoilers. What I can say is that it was given to me by someone you trust as completely as you do yourself."

"Rose?"

"No."

His breath hitched as he asked, "Donna?"

She smiled. "No, but you're getting warmer." She looked into his eyes, read his desire to believe her warring with the entrenched suspicion, and made a decision. "One day, the man you will come to be will have complete confidence in me. But if we are to survive this, we need that day to be now. So I will prove it to you." With tears in her eyes and in her voice, she added, "And for what I am about to tell you, I am truly more sorry than you can possibly know." She rose on tiptoes and leaned in towards his ear.

The Doctor tilted his head down and then froze in shock as the very last word he had ever expected passed her lips. There was only one woman alive who should know that word, only one who could whisper it in the dark of the night, and she was cradling a friend's baby three millenia in the past. The implications terrified him, paralyzed him. But one fact shone clear through the fog: Someday, in some way, he would indeed give River the ultimate symbol of his trust.

River backed away, anxiously studying his reaction. "Doctor, are we good?"

"Yeah," he said in a hoarse whisper. But it took another moment to shake off the fear and confusion and focus back on the crisis at hand.


	6. Chapter 6 - What's In a Name

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "Silence in the Library" and "Forest of the Dead" by Steven Moffatt.

* * *

The Doctor awoke to a throbbing headache. The first thing he saw as his world swam back into focus was River Song, wired up to the central computer and holding the two ends of a power connection in her hands. He lunged for her, only to be brought up short by a painful wrench on his shoulder. That was when he realized that he had been handcuffed to a pillar.

"River, you can't use your own brain as memory space. You will never survive it!" He strained for the screwdrivers that she had left on the floor, fingers scrabbling for the objects just out of reach.

"I know." Her voice was calm. "But neither would you, Doctor. The thing is, my past requires that you have a future. And I rather like my past. I am willing to sacrifice my future if it means my past stays intact."

"River..." His voice was broken.

She continued on as if she hadn't heard. "Oh, and I've left you something to remember me by. It's a vortex manipulator." She nodded towards the wristwatch-like object on top of the screwdrivers.

"River, I've got –" He cut himself off. It wouldn't do to show a lack of appreciation for a dying woman's bequest. _Rose would be proud of me for holding my tongue_. But that thought reminded him of what River knew that only Rose should, and of the possible reasons why, and that just added to his anguish.

River smiled. "You were about to say that you've got a TARDIS, so what would you need with a vortex manipulator. But you'll be glad of it someday. It's not for you to keep, it's for you to give away."

"Give away to whom?"

"You'll know when the time comes. And when you do, tell the new owner to drop in on me sometime. I'll welcome a visit – or rather, I already did."

He had no idea what to make of that, so he went back to the matter that was most troubling him. "River, you know my name. There's only one reason I would tell anyone my name, only one time I could…"

She avoided the implicit question, glanced over to the computer console. "It's almost time."

"River, please! I am married to Rose. I love Rose."

"Well, of course, who wouldn't? Give her my love when you see her, by the way. Well, no, maybe you'd better wait until she knows me."

"Just tell me! What happens to Rose? What happens to Rose and me?" The pain was clear in his voice.

"Spoi–" She sighed and relented. "Relax, Doctor. I know you don't understand, can't possibly understand yet, and that is why I was so sorry to have to do what I did. But I will tell you this much: It wasn't your name that I spoke."

"Of course it was! I know my own name."

"It wasn't your name that I spoke," she repeated firmly. Then as the computer counted down to zero, she smiled through her tears, a smile of angelic peace and grace. "Goodbye, Doctor, until you see me again."

There was a crack and a flash, and then the Doctor was alone with his pain until Donna arrived in search of him.

* * *

Rose bounded into the TARDIS to find Donna sitting in the jump seat staring up blankly while the Doctor fiddled with something underneath the console. "Hello everyone, I'm back!"

Donna managed brief eye contact and a wan smile before going back to her contemplation of the ceiling. The Doctor, on the other hand, nearly broke the sound barrier launching himself at Rose and crushing her to him in an embrace the like of which she hadn't felt since the night she had returned to him from Pete's World. "Oh, you're home, I've missed you so much!"

It took her a minute to disengage herself. "Okay, what's wrong? Why are you so excited to see me? "

"What do you mean?" He gave her a look like a wounded puppy. "I'm always happy to see you."

"Happy, yes. Overjoyed with hints of desperation, not such a common reaction."

He abruptly released her and buried himself back under the console. "Nothing's wrong. Just glad to have you back is all. How's Shareen?" His voice was a bit too bright, his attention on his task a bit too fixed.

"She's fine. Donna, would you like to tell me what's going on?"

Donna roused herself. "Everything's fine, we're just knackered. I married the man of my dreams and had a couple of lovely kids, and the Doctor met someone who knows future him and then she died saving all of us but then he fixed it so she wasn't quite dead…or something."

Rose stared. "Um…maybe the TARDIS translation circuit is on the blink, because I didn't understand any of that."

The Doctor's voice came from under the console. "There was a spot of trouble in The Library. Sort of an infestation. Donna got trapped in…well, I guess 'virtual reality' would be a good analogy. It's been difficult for her to let go of it."

Donna waved vaguely. "I'll be all right. It's just like when you have a really vivid dream, you know? Sometimes they're hard to shake off."

"And the rest of it, Doctor?"

There was a long silence, and then the Doctor pulled himself to his feet, scrubbing with a rag at some invisible grime on his hands and studiously avoiding Rose's eye. "Yes, well, there was a woman there; River, her name was. She managed to rescue Donna and all the others from this virtual reality, but the effort killed her. I was able to transfer her consciousness to the computer, so at least her mind lives on in the virtual world."

Rose considered this for a moment, knew how it would affect him: how he would blame himself for not being the one to give his life in the rescue, how he would blame himself for not being able to save River's body as well as her mind. And then she remembered a detail that Donna had included but the Doctor had omitted. "And this River – she knew you?"

Another long pause, and now the Doctor was polishing the console with the rag. At last, with obvious effort, he said, "She…she knew…Oh, Rose!" He managed to look her in the eye, and the words came out in an anguished rush. "She didn't just know me, she knew my name."

Rose gaped. "Your name? Your _name_ name?"

Donna threw her hands in the air. "Oi! Again with the name thing! He's been wittering on about it for hours! What's the big deal? Although, I have to point out, Doctor, you've never told _ me_ your name."

"Which makes you luckier than Rose and River combined," he muttered.

Rose ignored that, saying to Donna, "Gallifreyan names…they are considered powerful secrets. Sacred, in a way, I suppose you could say. The only time the Doctor has ever spoken his name to me was during our wedding ceremony."

"Oh," said Donna, sitting up straighter. "So if River knew it…"

"Yes." Rose looked back to the Doctor and asked softly, "What are you thinking?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" He was back to avoiding eye contact. "Either you die, or…or I finally do something to make you leave me."

"You're forgetting at least one more option: _I_ do something to make you leave _me._"

That startled him into looking at her again. "That could never happen."

"Well, neither could me choosing to leave you, so you can just cross that one off your list," she said, her tone brooking no argument.

"Which just leaves option number one, but that's hardly comforting."

She sighed. "No. But between a human and a Time Lord…well, we've always known who was likely to outlive the other."

"It's one thing to know that in theory…"

"A good sight more disturbing to see the evidence, I know. But did she give any sort of time clue? I mean, could she be from, say, a couple hundred years on in your personal timeline?"

"She knows you," he began in an agonized whisper, but Donna interrupted.

"You said that she told you it wasn't your name."

"She didn't make sense. She said a lot of things that didn't make sense. Wanted to know if I had a twin, wanted to know how many hearts I had, told me I would need to give someone a vortex manipulator someday."

Rose considered that for a long moment, then grinned, tongue between her teeth. "Well, there you go! It's not you who marries River, it's your one-hearted, TARDIS-less twin who shares your name. Oh, wait, I know, she marries your hand – that has no heart at all!"

Despite himself, the Doctor had to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the theory. "You're absolutely mad, you are."

"Yep." She popped the 'p' in imitation of him. "And sorry, but you're going have to put up with me for a good long while yet. Maybe forever."

"I think I can handle it." He hugged her close, and somehow the uncertain future didn't seem to matter so much.

She tilted her head back to look up at him. "You all right, then?"

"I'm always all right." And he realized that, with Rose by his side, that was actually the truth.


	7. Chapter 7 - Closing Doors

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

Adam Mitchell opened his eyes to the sight of the console room ceiling. He could feel every line of the floor grating pressing into his back, but his head seemed to be comfortably cushioned. The rare sight of the Doctor without a leather jacket gave Adam a good guess as to what he was currently using as a pillow. His groan as he sat up roused the Doctor from his contemplation of the monitor.

"Ah, good, you're awake. I've checked you out – no broken bones, mild concussion, nothing serious. Let me just take another look now that you're up." The Doctor squatted in front of him, shined a penlight in his eyes, grunted in satisfaction, then pressed a cup of water and a couple pills into his hands. "That should help sort you out."

"What happened?"

The Doctor was back at the monitor now. "Well, what's the last thing you remember?"

"We left Rose with her Doctor. We were on our way back to our own universe, and then – bam!"

"Right, so you're about up to speed, then. Not much else to tell."

"So are we back home?" Adam gingerly scooted backwards to lean against a strut.

"Uh…not exactly."

"So where?"

"We're still in Rose's universe. Still in Rose's London, actually."

"Okay, so once again: what happened?"

"Well, you know that hole in the fabric of reality that the Time Lords are holding open for us to pass through? We, uh, we didn't quite hit it."

"I don't believe it." Adam shook his head, and then wished he hadn't – the pills hadn't kicked in yet. "We crashed because your aim was off?"

The Doctor crossed his arms defensively. "Oi, my aim was right on target! The problem was the hole – it wasn't where it was supposed to be. So anyway, since we missed it, we…well, what actually happened was very complicated in a spacey-timey way, but let's just say that we ricocheted."

"Ricocheted?"

"Yes. Back to parallel Earth, back to parallel London. Although we seem to have bounced forward several months. But not to worry. I'm sure with a little recalibrating and a little recalculating, we'll get it right."

"That's –" Adam was cut off when the monitor filled with the image of a man in ceremonial robes and a large ornate collar. He was speaking a language Adam couldn't understand, which was disconcerting when one was so used to the TARDIS's translation. The Doctor was replying in the same language, and judging from his steadily rising pitch and volume, he didn't like whatever the other Time Lord was saying. The exchange went on for a few minutes, until the transmission abruptly cut off. The Doctor slammed his fist down on the console and rested his forehead against the monitor, eyes closed.

Adam pulled himself to his feet, afraid to ask but needing to know. "Okay, so I've got a few questions. First, who was that?"

The Doctor didn't open his eyes. "The President of the High Council."

"And why couldn't I understand him?"

"Gallifreyan. The one language the designers didn't think to program into the TARDIS because they never expected there to be aliens on board."

Adam blinked in surprise, not used to thinking of himself as the alien. "Fair enough. So most importantly – what was all that about?"

"The stars are dying."

"What?"

"Whole solar systems, just blinking out of existence. The universe is collapsing. And not just ours – the High Council thinks it is affecting every dimension, the whole of reality. I told you it wasn't my aim that was off – our worlds are shifting, misaligning."

Adam blanched. "What is causing it?"

"They don't know. But they are recalling every TARDIS to Gallifrey to help with the investigation."

"Every– But they will wait for us to get back before they recall the four holding our hole open, yeah? Because, if I remember correctly, if that connection to home closes, not only are we stuck here, but we're stuck here without power, right?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He didn't have to. The sudden darkness and the sound of the TARDIS powering down was all the reply needed.

Adam felt his stomach plummet, sucked in a breath. "Blimey, they don't waste time, do they?"

A sour voice came from the blackness. "I guess no good deed goes unpunished. Wait here, I'll find us some torches."

As the Doctor's footsteps echoed down the corridor, Adam groped his way to the door and let the daylight stream in. The TARDIS had landed in an alley facing on a busy street. He stood in the doorway, watching London go by, until his whole world began to pitch and sway. He gripped the door frame in alarm, at first wondering just how bad his concussion was, how the Doctor's diagnosis could have been so off. But then the screams coming from the street told him that the motion was not in his head. "Doctor!" he shouted.

The Time Lord was out the door a minute later, staring up in disbelief at a sky that had gone from broad daylight to the dark of night in an instant. And it was more than just a time shift; the various planets floating above, where only the moon should have been, testified to that.

"Where are we?" asked Adam, and the Doctor for once was speechless.

* * *

As soon as the Doctor heard the horribly familiar metallic cries of "EXTERMINATE!" he shoved Adam back into the TARDIS, slammed the door, and headed for his workshop. A little bit of jiggery-pokery later, an old salvaged asteroid laser had become a gun capable of piercing Dalek armor.

Adam watched in surprise as he worked. "But you hate guns."

"You've met one Dalek. Now imagine an army of them." The Doctor's face was dark as his voice – _like an oncoming storm_, Adam thought. _Where did that image come from?_

"So what's the plan?"

"Well, we know just two people in this entire universe. Fortunately, they both have experience fighting Daleks. So we try to find them."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

"I don't know, all right?" he snapped. "I'm winging it here. But it will work out. It always does."

* * *

The Doctor crouched low behind a car abandoned in the middle of the street, and watched the old man's futile attempt to blind a Dalek with a paintgun. He loved the pluck and perseverance of the human race, but this particular instance bordered on foolhardy, and it was sure to cost the man and his middle-aged companion dearly.

_You have a limited number of shots; you've got to make them count. You can't save everyone._ He tried to creep away, but his feet wouldn't obey; he couldn't just move on and leave this couple to get slaughtered. Resigned to his own interference, he stood up and yelled, "Oi, pepper pot! This is your one warning: Leave them alone."

The Dalek swung around to fix him in the blue light of its eyestalk. "EXTERM–"

The old man ran past the smoking remains of the Dalek to shake his hand. "Bless you, sir! I thought for sure we were done for. Wilfred Mott is my name; this is my daughter, Sylvia."

"Nice to meet you, Wilfred, Sylvia. This is Adam, and I'm the Doctor."

Wilfred's reaction took him by surprise. "You most certainly are not! I've met the Doctor, sir. My granddaughter is with him right now. I'm quite grateful to you, but you are no Doctor."

The Doctor glanced at Adam. "Let me guess: skinny bloke, lots of hair, suit and tie, blue box?"

"So you do know him, then?"

"We're…" The Doctor hesitated.

"They're brothers," Adam said.

"Brothers with the same rubbish nickname?" asked Sylvia in disbelief.

"It's not a nick– Long story," said the Doctor. "So then you must be Rose's family."

"Rose? No. Donna, Donna Noble, that's my granddaughter."

At the thought that something might have happened to Rose, the Doctor felt a fear as great as any the Daleks could inspire. But it changed to relief an instant later, as Wilf prattled on, "Mind you, Donna and Rose are thick as thieves, it sounds like. Sometimes I get the impression they gang up on that poor old Doctor."

"It's very important that I reach them. Do you have a way of getting in touch?"

"No," Wilf said. "I mean, I do, I've got a mobile number. But I've been trying it since this whole thing started, and I can't get through."

"Daleks must be blocking the signal." The Doctor folded his arms, tapping a foot in frustrated thought.

Wilfred gestured to a nearby house. "Well, listen, why don't you come inside? We'll have a cuppa while the world falls apart, and we'll figure out what to do next."

And that was how the Ninth Doctor of Pete's World came to be in the right place at the right time, albeit lacking a webcam, when Harriet Jones' subwave network sought out anyone with a connection to his counterpart.


	8. Chapter 8 - The Crucible

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

Adam clutched the mobile they had borrowed from Wilf, watched the call trying to connect, as the Doctor steered Wilf's car through the streets littered with abandoned vehicles. They rode up onto the sidewalk at some points, but no matter; there were no pedestrians to avoid. The Doctor had one eye on the road and one on the flashing screwdriver. "So what exactly are we doing?" Adam asked.

"Trying to find the other TARDIS."

"But you looked for the TARDIS before, when we first arrived with Rose. You said you couldn't track it – wrong universe and all."

The Doctor grinned and waggled the screwdriver. "Right, TARDIS signals – incompatible. But phone signals – those are pretty much the same in every universe. And the Doctor's phone is _in_ the TARDIS. Well, I presume. The screwdriver's not the best tool for the job, but it's the only one we have; it should get us close enough."

He was trying to negotiate his way around another blockade of vehicles when a file of Daleks came out of a cross street. He cut the engine and the two men ducked under the dash. Three hearts were beating a rapid tattoo by the time the troop rolled by. The Doctor let out a shaky breath as he sat back up. "Signal seems to be close. Maybe we should go on foot from here on out."

* * *

The Tenth Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS, surveyed the empty streets. Rose came up behind him, slipped her hand in his, and he could feel her trembling. Donna was right with them too, brash as ever, but rubbing her arms as if feeling a chill she couldn't get rid of. "Right, so we've found the Earth. Now what do we do?" she asked.

"Well, now we reconnoiter, evaluate the situation, use the intelligence gathered to form a stratagem that makes maximum use of our assets, and –"

"You have no idea what to do, do you?"

"None whatsoever." But then movement caught his eye, something in the distance, some distinctly non-Dalek figures coming towards them down the street. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, squinted in the half-light. "Is that…Is that me?"

Rose followed his outstretched finger. "No, I think– No, see, that's Adam with him. It's the other Doctor. Wonder what they're doing here…"

_What, indeed._ Had his counterpart been sent here to fight the Daleks? Were there more Time Lords coming? The Doctor felt physically ill to think that the Time War could begin anew, to think of Gallifrey versus Skaro all over again, of the fire and the death and the blood. But he would be lying if he didn't admit that there was some relief too, in having another Time Lord, another TARDIS on his side, in knowing that the fate of the world didn't rest entirely on the shoulders of him and his tiny crew. He began to jog towards the newcomers, his roiling thoughts blotting out everything else, making him forget to be cautious.

He never saw the Dalek, never heard it, felt only the impact of a blast that spun him sideways and threw him to the ground. Even the pain took a minute to register. He lay on his back, staring up at the impossible planets in the darkened sky, spasms wracking his body, struggling for breath, feeling one heart racing and skipping erratically and the other shutting down completely. Rose and Donna leaned over him, faces etched with fear. And then Jack Harkness entered his narrowing field of vision – _where did he come from?_ – brandishing a gun and shouting something that the Doctor couldn't hear over the pounding of the blood in his ears.

The two women half-carried, half-dragged him into the TARDIS, Jack following, shooting, shouting. Once inside, Rose knelt by his side, gripping his hand in both of hers. He wanted to warn her away, to tell her it was dangerous to be near him with what was coming next, but he couldn't coordinate his tongue and lips to form words. He closed his eyes in relief as Jack pulled her from him.

There was nearly as much commotion inside as there had been in the street. He still couldn't make out words, but he could hear the tones: Rose's distraught, Donna's querulous and demanding, Jack's authoritative. He loved them all dearly, was glad they were with him in this moment, but he did so wish that they would give him a bit of peace to do what he had to do.

And then he could feel himself lifted on a wave of energy, every cell healing from within. His breathing eased, his hearts beat in steady tandem, his muscles once again cooperated with his brain to raise him to his feet. And the energy kept rising, surging, filling him, too much to be contained, and he could feel it about to explode from him. _Not yet, can't go now, not in the middle of this crisis!_ And then he saw the solution right in front of him: the hand in the jar, the one Rose still called creepy, the one that was here in the console room because he could not figure out what else to do with it. As the light burst from his body, he pointed head and arms towards the jar, putting all his focus into siphoning off the energy within before it could change him. And then it was over. He ran his hands over his face, down his body, feeling the features still fantastically familiar. _It actually worked!_ Frankly, he was as surprised by the outcome as were the three staring at him slack-jawed. "Well, that's better. Now where were we?"

* * *

Nine caught the flash of planetlight reflecting off of the Dalek's metal casing and opened his mouth to warn Ten, but it was too late. The Dalek got off one shot, and then a man in a vintage military overcoat teleported into existence behind the creature and ensured that it wouldn't get a second. _Oh fantastic, don't tell me this universe has a Colonel Jack too._ Nine started to run forward, but Adam grabbed the collar of his jacket, almost jerking him off his feet. Good thing too, because the street was suddenly full of Daleks, weapons firing in all directions. Rose and some ginger woman – Donna, he presumed – dragged Ten back into the TARDIS as Jack covered them. Nine joined the fight as well, hoping that he could still blast a path clear and make it to the timeship, but the numbers were overwhelming; and as the power charge on his gun ran down, he and Adam were forced to retreat.

They watched from around a corner as a ring of blue light surrounded the TARDIS and lifted it into the sky. "Is that what it looks like when it takes off? I don't think I've ever seen it from outside." Despite their predicament, Adam sounded awed.

"The ring – that's not the TARDIS. That's a temporal prison. The Daleks have them captive now. Come along; they need our help."

* * *

The Doctor and Adam shuffled along in the group of prisoners. Lacking an independent means of transport to the Dalek ship, letting themselves be captured had seemed the only option. But now that they were on board the _Crucible,_ they were searching for a way to escape the crowd.

And then the Doctor spotted a familiar face, a potential ally. She looked at him, looked through him, and his hearts sank. But then again, his Sarah Jane wouldn't have recognized this face either. He worked his way up to her, dragging Adam behind. _Sotto voce_ he said, "Sarah Jane Smith?" Her head snapped around. "Do you know the Doctor?"

Her eyes lit up. "That's why I'm here! Who are you?"

"I'm –"

"TIME LORD." He winced at the mechanical voice. _So much for blending in. Should have known they could spot the difference._ "THE TIME LORD WILL STAND FORTH."

The Doctor gripped Adam's arm. "Adam, stick with Sarah Jane." And then he stepped out of the crowd, let the Daleks lead him to his fate.

Sarah Jane watched him go. "He's another Time Lord? He's a friend of the Doctor?" Adam nodded. _Well, that's close enough._

The blond woman beside Sarah Jane had been gaping at the whole scene, but now she found her voice. "He's not a friend of the Doctor, he _is _the Doctor." She looked at Adam, wide-eyed. "Wait, is he the –? Are you the ones that brought my Rose back here?"

Adam managed a wan smile despite his worry for the Doctor. "You already know about parallel worlds? Well, that makes my explanation a bit easier."

* * *

The Doctor watched the TARDIS sink into the z-neutrino core – his precious timeship, with the infinitely more precious human still inside. He felt as though his hearts were burning up right along with them. He had begged the Daleks to let him take Donna's place, but even as he had been pleading, he knew it was futile. The Daleks were planning to exterminate everyone anyway, and why should they agree to cut his torment short? Perhaps Donna had made out the best of all of them.

He heard the impassive voice counting down to the destruction of the TARDIS, _three, two, one,_ and then…nothing changed. He expected to feel loss, the severing of a telepathic connection, but everything in his head was exactly the same. No, not everything – there was a new sensation, one he now realized he had been feeling for several minutes but which had been drowned out by the grief and pain. It was something he had not felt in oh so long – the faint brush of another Time Lord mind against his.

_My parallel-world counterpart?_ But no, he had never sensed him before. This had to be a Time Lord of this universe. _How is that possible?_ He reached out, trying to make contact, a tentative question, but there was no response. That wasn't surprising – a new regeneration, a fresh consciousness, as this had to be, would take a while to settle, to tune in to the presence of others.

The Supreme Dalek was taunting him, demanding that he confess his anger and sorrow and despair. "Yeah," the Doctor said as he was expected to do, although he was barely aware of the question. Inside, he was reeling. He had an impossible new ally – whoever this Time Lord was, even if it was the Master himself, risen from the ashes, they could surely unite against the Daleks. He still had wily old Jack, faking his own death. He still had his beloved Rose, who had to be pulled away from Jack's prone form, and the Doctor's one regret was that he could not tell her Jack's secret right now. He still had his treasured TARDIS, with Donna safely tucked inside. With so much on his side, how could he possibly fail? Only centuries of practice kept the grin off his face as he and Rose were hauled away to meet Davros.

* * *

The Doctor no longer felt like grinning.

The first blow came when they entered the Vault to find Nine already imprisoned. "Doctor!" Rose ran towards him, arms outstretched, only to bounce off the energy field of his holding cell. Years of bumpy time travel had taught her how to take a fall, and she popped back to her feet, unfazed. "I mean, other Doctor!" ("Nine," both men said in unison, and despite the dire circumstances, she laughed in delight.) "You came back."

"Never left, actually. What with reality collapsing and all, our door home got slammed shut on us."

Ten winced. That meant no reinforcements from Pete's World, plus a fresh source of guilt: Nine had only come to this world to do him a good turn, and now he was stuck.

The second blow hit harder. He had to stand watching, helpless, as the planetary alignment compressed a burst of z-neutrino energy into a single stream focused on a group of trembling humans. He saw them disintegrate into nothingness, heard Nine's hoarse whisper of "Adam!" A blinding fury welled up in him, and he hurled himself against the wall of his prison. "Davros, you monster! I warn you, you will pay for this!"

Davros cackled. "Ah, there it is – the fire and rage of a Time Lord who butchered millions. Show her, show your companion your true self."

The Doctor immediately subsided, still angry, but also ashamed and abashed. He looked at Rose out of the corner of his eye. She wore a stunned expression, but whether it was at the Daleks' action or his own reaction, he couldn't say. It wasn't the anger itself that shamed him – that was a natural response, one she surely couldn't fault, doubtless even shared. No, it was the way the anger filled him, consumed him, changed him. He didn't want her to see that, never wanted her to know that side of him. _Must keep myself under better control. _

The third blow followed fast upon the second. In the great scheme of things, the Doctor knew that it was nothing compared to the loss of human life that he had just witnessed, but on a personal level, it struck deeper. "The revealing of the Doctor's soul," Dalek Caan called it: the Doctor's friends, companions, protégés, threatening mass destruction of humans and Daleks alike.

Davros was delighted by the turn of events, the opportunity to indict the Doctor. "This is the truth of you, Doctor: you take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons. Behold your children of time, transformed into murderers."

The Doctor bowed his head, staggered by the accusation. But when Davros spoke of the sacrifice made that day for his sake, he looked back up. "What sacrifice?"

It was Nine who answered. "Harriet Jones, I think her name was. She orchestrated the effort to get you here. But it cost her her life." He had been relieved at first, when Adam had appeared on the screen in the little group holding the warp star. But now he looked as troubled as Ten felt at Davros' words.

The Daleks' creator continued, merciless: "How many have died in your name?"

Ten didn't want to listen, didn't want to give his enemy such power over him, but Davros was saying nothing that he hadn't already thought about himself in his darker moments, in sleepless nights and waking nightmares. He couldn't stop the images that flashed through his mind of those lost along the way: Adric, Jabe, Astrid, Jenny, River, so many others, some whose names he could not remember but whose faces he would never forget. And, vain and shallow as he knew it to be, the foremost thought in his head was, _Not in front of Rose! Don't let her see me as I am. Don't let her lose faith in me._ He didn't dare look at her, feared to see her disillusionment.

The distinctive sound of the TARDIS gave him hope that the physical victory might yet be his. But in the psychological battle, Davros' victory over him was near complete, and they both knew it.


	9. Chapter 9 - Countdown

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

The Ninth Doctor was feeling extraneous. Adam and Jack had found guns and were keeping Davros at bay. Donna and Ten's new twin – Nine still had questions about just how that had happened – looking very pleased with themselves for returning 26 planets to their proper place, were having an animated discussion about the effects of quantum gravitational fields on temporal distortion. Ten had run back into the TARDIS full of some plan for sorting out Earth, the last remaining stolen planet. Rose was having an emotional reunion with her mother and her friend. Sarah Jane and Martha were comparing adventures. That left Nine standing alone, following all the conversations simultaneously.

It would take a Time Lord brain to handle so many threads at once. Which was why Nine, Donna and Ten Mark Two were the only ones to notice the fact that Dalek Caan was still rambling on in his crazy sing-song: "I have seen the end of everything Dalek. And you must make it happen, Doctor."

Mark Two cut himself off in the middle of a sentence. "He's right. With or without the Reality Bomb, this Dalek Empire is big enough to slaughter the cosmos." He turned his attention to the control panel, studied it for a minute, and Nine could see a plan forming in his head.

Donna could see it too, and fidgeted anxiously. "I think we should wait for the Doctor."

"I am the Doctor." He placed his hands on the controls.

"As am I." Nine covered the other Doctor's hands with his own. "You don't want to do this."

Mark Two gave him a look so black that Nine nearly stepped back. "This is not your world. You don't have a say here."

"You're right. Your world, your call. But just stop and think it through for a mo. Because we are brilliant, absolutely brilliant, you know we are. It's not bragging, it's simple fact. But we don't always think through the consequences of our actions, do we? You're starting a brand new life. Do you want your first act to be committing genocide?"

"If I don't, the Daleks will." But Nine could feel the fingers under his own unclench slightly from the controls.

"Go on, do it!" screamed Davros, and all the humans were paying attention now to the drama unfolding. "Show everyone that you are who I know you to be – the Destroyer of Worlds!"

Nine watched the muscles tightening in Mark Two's jaw. He didn't know the details of Ten's life, but he knew that Davros' earlier accusations had hit home with Ten – truth be told, they had struck Nine as well. Mark Two had not been present to hear them, but now he was prepared to go even further than Davros had said, to become the weapon himself. Nine feared that if he started down that road, he would never come back. "Listen to me. Your regeneration came out of their hatred and their bloodlust. Your first moments were steeped in death and destruction. It is natural that you would want to respond in kind. But you are not like them. We are not like them. We are better than that."

"You don't know me. You don't know what I have done." Mark Two's voice was low and cold.

"I know your potential, same as my own. For bad and for good."

"They need to be stopped."

"I agree. And blasting them to smithereens is the easy way to do it. But when has any Doctor ever taken the easy way?"

Nine saw that Ten was coming out of the TARDIS, heading their way, glowering, but he warned him back with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Mark Two was his own man now – he had to work this out for himself.

There was a long stretch where the only sounds came from Davros goading the Doctor to carry out his destruction and the panicked cries of the Daleks still spinning out of control from Donna's interference. But at last Mark Two's face lit up, and Nine felt safe in removing his hands from the controls.

"Mickey the Idiot, give me your little puddle-jumping toy. Come on, Tin Dog, shake a leg; we haven't got all day."

"It's called a Dimension Cannon. And I suppose it was too much to hope that the new Doctor would be less rude than the old."

"Mickey, mate, I'm part Donna Noble. If anything, I'm going to be more rude, not less," Mark Two said, earning a sharp "Oi!" from Donna. "Original me – screwdriver!" Ten tossed him the tool. A little tinkering, a few manipulations of the Dalek console, and Mark Two danced over to the helpless Davros. With a grave air and great ceremony, he hung the Dimension Cannon around the other man's neck. "Davros, I hereby present you with this medal in recognition of your crimes against humanity and, oh, pretty much the whole rest of creation." He gave a crazed grin and hit the button. "Have a nice trip!"

With a cry, Davros disappeared, followed by all the remaining Daleks in the Vault. Donna brought up an external view on the monitors, just in time to see the entire Dalek fleet vanish into thin air.

Mickey spoke up over the cheering. "What just happened?"

The three Doctors – four, if one counted the DoctorDonna – wore matching proud smiles, but it was Mark Two who explained. "I programmed the Cannon with invalid coordinates. So it started the journey – it took Davros into the Void – but it doesn't have a destination to complete the trip. So he's stuck there. And as a special bonus, the Cannon pulls along anyone whose genetic structure matches Davros', which just happens to be, oh, every Dalek in existence. They're all safe and sound and completely contained. And now for our next trick, we have one more planet to return."

"Right!" Ten clapped his hands. "Into the TARDIS, everyone. We'll finally get to fly her the way she was meant to fly."

* * *

Ten leaned against the TARDIS and watched them all walk away from him – Sarah Jane in one direction, Mickey, Martha and Jack in the other. He felt a presence beside him and glanced over to see Nine. "It's always hard to see them move on, isn't it?" the other man said.

"For a few splendid moments, they were former former companions. Now they are former former former companions. Which cancels out to just former companions." He wallowed in that thought for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose you have a life to get back to as well. Let's see what we can do to sort you out, shall we?"

"That would be fan– Ah!" Nine did a strange shimmy, reached into his jacket pocket and flung a red-hot key on the ground. They both stared at it for a minute, then Nine yelled, "Adam, Jackie! Power's back on! Time to go home." He looked at Ten, opened his mouth as if to say something, but settled for clapping him on the back.

"Yeah, you too." Ten managed to smile, but he felt as though his hearts were encased in ice.

The rest of the occupants of the TARDIS spilled out. There was a flurry of goodbyes and hugs and tears, and then the visitors were gone. Ten followed his ever-dwindling crew back inside. _And then there were four._

Donna headed straight for the console, pulling levers and adjusting settings as if she owned the place. "Well, no point sitting around wasting time on Earth, not when there is a whole universe out there waiting to be explored. How about Felspoon? They've got mountains that sway in the breeze. Can you imagine that? What do you think? Anyone have an opinion on our next destination, station, nation, ration, ration, ration, ration, ration…"

Rose grabbed her arm. "Donna? Donna, what's wrong?"

Ten gently pulled Rose away, caught Mark Two's eye. "She was doing so well, I was starting to hope…"

"Me too. Is there another solution? Nine said we don't always think through the consequences before we act."

"I can see the consequences just fine, and I don't like them, but I don't see an alternative."

"Alternative to what? What is happening? Doctors?" Rose's fear came out as anger in her voice.

Ten stepped towards a trembling Donna, but Mark Two held up his hand. "Let me." And so Ten held Rose back, whispered an explanation, while Mark Two put his hands to Donna's temples and then caught her when she collapsed. _And then there were three_.

* * *

Rose and Ten dragged themselves, drained, back to the TARDIS from Donna's house. "I wish Mark Two could have come with us, had a proper goodbye," she said.

"Rose, _we_ didn't even get a proper goodbye. His being there would just have raised a lot of awkward questions without doing any good."

"I know, it's just – " She looked around the empty console room. "Oh, I thought he'd be in here, tinkering. You're always tinkering. Doctor? Doctor Mark Two? You here?"

When there was no response, Ten's stomach sank. "I'll go look for him." He headed straight for his workshop, opened a drawer, stared down unsurprised into its emptiness. _And then there were two._ If he had to pick just one person to travel with for the rest of eternity, it would be Rose, no question, no hesitation. But if he didn't have to pick, if there were no limits on the company he could keep… People fascinated him. He loved watching their reactions, loved hearing their stories, loved seeing the wonders of the universe through fresh eyes, loved having an audience. Just a few hours before, the TARDIS had been full for the first time in centuries, and the energy of the crowd had buoyed him; now it was nearly empty again, and he felt empty along with it.

He found Rose in the kitchen, fixing tea. She looked up. "Did you find him?"

He got a slight bit of comfort from the way she knew without hesitation which Doctor he was. But not enough to lift his grey mood; and his hearts fractured just a little more when he saw that she had laid out three cups. "He took River's vortex manipulator."

"What?"

"He's gone."

"Why?" The sugar bowl slipped from her hand, and only his Time Lord reflexes saved it.

He placed the bowl on the table with elaborate care, and shrugged. He really didn't want to discuss this, didn't want to think about anything that had happened today. "Three's a crowd."

"What are you talking about? What about Mickey? Or Jack? Or…?" The name of the most recently departed companion hung unspoken in the air.

"Three's a crowd when two are both in love with the third."

"Oh." Her eyes went wide, and she steadied herself with a hand on the back of a chair. "That's… I can't… I don't know how to handle that."

"Nor do I. Nor does he. Hence, he's gone."

"I feel like Jack would have plenty to say at this moment." Her laugh rang false.

"No doubt. Good thing he's not here."

She paused, pondered, absorbed. "So he just left?"

"I would have done."

"He didn't say goodbye?"

"I wouldn't have done."

She stared into the middle distance, remembering, comprehending. "A lot about River's story is making more sense now, eh?"

"You were closer to the truth than we ever could have guessed."

Her face lit up. "But that's good, right? He'll end up with River. He'll have a happy ending."

He hadn't thought it through quite that far, but now that he did, he found a sliver of consolation there. Not much, but something. "There are no guarantees; time can be rewritten. And he won't be over you overnight. But yes, maybe someday… And then, River knew you. So maybe we will all meet again." He intended to stop there, but somehow found himself going on, his feelings bubbling up in his throat, refusing to be contained. "It was just so nice to sense someone, you know, here." He tapped his temple. "Amazing how fast I got used to it again. And he's still there, I suppose, but he's far away. Just like the rest. Everyone leaves."

"I'm so sorry. I never thought about… I was hoping he could be a brother to you." She stepped up to him, laid her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, but the embrace was almost painful when all he could think was, _How long till you realize Davros was right about me? How long till you leave too? How long until there is just one in the TARDIS?_

He could feel the grief and the shame and the guilt building up inside him, pressing on his hearts and lungs, until he felt he would implode if he stayed still for one moment longer. He pulled away from Rose, as gently as he could, but not gently enough, judging by the hurt expression on her face. "You know what just occurred to me? We never did make it to Barcelona, did we? What do you think? Maybe we could do Barcelona the city and then Barcelona the planet. The complete Barcelona package tour. Sound good?" He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him to the console room.

"Doctor?"

Part of him knew that his voice was too loud, too forced, knew that he was confusing and maybe even scaring her with his sudden mania. He was sorry about that, but he couldn't help himself – he had to get moving, had to keep swimming ahead of the tidal wave that wanted to engulf him. He let go of her hand, began dashing around the console, adjusting controls. "Is that a no to Barcelona? Well, we can always save it for another day. What about Felspoon, then? Hadn't thought about Felspoon in years, not till Donna mentioned it." He instantly regretted saying that name, reminding them both, but he kept talking through it. "Or then there's the desert planet of Villansegel. Never been there. Heard it's lovely. Great rolling dunes of turquoise sand, far as the eye can see. And the locals use these pack animals, they've got humps like camels, but they hop like kangaroos. Fancy a ride on a hopping camel?"

Rose seemed to understand what he was doing, what he needed. _She always understands_, said the part of him that was still capable of rational thought. She hopped in the jump seat, out of the way, letting him have free run. "Wherever you decide, Doctor. I'll go anywhere with you. You've never let me down yet."

"All right, Villansegel it is, then. Hold on tight." He threw the TARDIS into motion, hurtled them into the Vortex, trying to outrun the pain, trying to outrace his own soul.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Time Lord Victorious

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The Waters of Mars" by Russell T Davies and Phil Ford.

* * *

Rose trudged along behind the Doctor and watched the red dust of Mars puff out from beneath her feet, trying to focus on that sight rather than on the panicked cries she could still hear coming through the comm unit of her spacesuit. When the shockwave of the shuttle explosion tossed her like a rag doll, she welcomed the physical pain that distracted her from the emotional.

She sat up to see the Doctor already on his feet, staring back at the base. After a moment, he turned, looked down at her, but his eyes seemed unfocused. "I am a Time Lord."

She was speechless in the face of this non sequitur. And when he took off running, it was another minute before she could gather her wits to head after him. "Doctor, come back! We have to go before it's too late!" She wasn't sure if he was ignoring her or just couldn't hear.

Her hesitation gave him quite a head start. She arrived just as one of the mutated humans began pounding on the far door. One, two, three. Her heart froze, both at the immediate danger and at what it could mean for the Doctor. He will knock four times. Was this a fixed moment, not just for the colonists, but for the Gallifreyan too?

But the Doctor, as usual, was on top of the situation. "Three knocks is all you get." There was a flash of electricity, and one threat was gone. The Doctor was already moving on to his next plan. "Heat – we'll steam them out."

Rose reached for his arm, but he jerked it away. "Doctor, listen to me. It's a fixed point. There is nothing we can do. We have to go. Now."

He wheeled on her, and she nearly gasped at the look in his eyes. She had seen his fire. She had seen his ice. But she had never seen such madness as she found there now. "I am a Time Lord, Rose. Lord. . That means that the laws of time are mine, and they will obey me."

"That's not the way it works," began Rose, as another explosion rocked the base and sent the Doctor's helmet flying off the table where he had perched it. He picked it up, saw the shattered faceplate, tossed it aside.

Rose's stomach convulsed. Without the helmet, he couldn't leave if he wanted to. "We need to get the TARDIS here, right now. If I run for it…"

"Too far. You'll never make it in time." He paced, muttering to himself, running his hands through his hair, flinging open cabinets until he found the annoying Gadget. "Aha! I love a funny robot. He brings the TARDIS here, and we can save everyone. Everyone lives, Rose!"

She closed her eyes, whispered, "Fixed point," knew he wasn't listening. For over a week now, ever since facing Davros and the Dalek hordes, he had been in the grip of this mania, dashing from one adventure to the next as if he were afraid to stop moving, talking incessantly about everything except what was bothering him. And so they had run from Villansegel to a Victorian Christmas to feudal Japan to the planet of Barcelona (at last!) to a bus ride through a wormhole, where he was informed that he was soon to die – and that prediction hadn't helped matters at all.

Rose had tried to support him, tried to keep up, but she was only human, and she was exhausted. When he finally realized this, he had suggested Mars – quiet, uninhabited, a good place to catch their breath. But now here he was, out of control in a way she had never seen him.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes to see Adelaide. "He's crazy," the older woman said, making no effort to avoid his overhearing.

Rose couldn't deny that he seemed possessed by a temporary insanity, but she had to defend him, had to explain him. "He's frustrated. He cares so much. He can't bear to stand by and do nothing while you all..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

"So what is he doing?"

Rose watched him as he manipulated Gadget with burning intensity. "He's trying to bring our ship here. He means to take you all with us."

"And what he said earlier, about things that have to happen, events that cannot be changed...Was that just crazy talk?"

"No. He was right. What happens here must happen. You can't fight time, not without causing something worse." She had a vision of great monsters beating their wings against a church while a car circled endlessly outside, and had to battle down the nausea.

"How does he know? How do you know?"

"He knows because he is not human. His people can sense time. And I know because I know him."

Adelaide stared at her for a long moment, measuring, then reached over and touched the computer. "Initiating Action Five," a voice announced, as the two women came to a silent understanding.

* * *

The TARDIS arrived with seconds to spare. The Doctor bolted for the console. "Rose, load everyone in."

Rose stepped through the door and half-closed it behind her, then turned and looked through the narrow opening she had left, hating what she had to do now.

Adelaide was in front of the door but made no move forward. "This has to happen." A statement, not a question, seeking confirmation of what she had already accepted.

"Yes."

Adelaide stood firm against the jostling of Yuri and Mia, ignored their cries to "Move!" or "Go in!" or "Get out of the way!" Her eyes were locked on Rose. "You can't save us."

"I am so, so sorry." Rose could barely speak, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her.

Adelaide nodded once, her face expressionless. "Lock the door, Rose."

Rose obeyed and pressed her burning forehead against the cool wood, listening to Yuri's fluent Russian cursing, which the TARDIS obligingly translated for her, and Mia's wails of despair, and their frenzied pounding on the doors, and the utter silence from Adelaide. She could still hear it all long after the TARDIS had taken off, long after Action Five had been completed.

* * *

As the TARDIS landed, she heard the Doctor behind her, sounding confused. "Rose? Where is everyone?"

She couldn't answer him, didn't dare look at him. She wrenched the door open, ran into the snow-covered street, and emptied her stomach into the gutter. She rinsed her mouth with a handful of snow and staggered back towards the ship, but her legs felt like jelly, and halfway there she dropped to her knees. The Doctor towered over her, grand and terrible, crystalline flakes swirling around him. "Where are they all, Rose?"

"Gone. They're all gone."

"You had one job: to get everyone on board. It wasn't that hard. What happened?"

"I locked the door."

"What?" His roar echoed in the silent street. "How could you do such a thing? Why would you?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, felt hot tears trickle onto cold cheeks. He who held all life so precious, even that of his enemies – how could he possibly forgive her for leaving these innocents behind? "I was protecting time."

"Protecting –? That is not your responsibility. It was my people who took that on. Don't you understand? The whole stinking mess of the Time War, and what was left at the end? Me. Only me. I am the winner, the Time Lord victorious."

She dared to contradict him. She hated what had happened, hated her part in it, but she knew she was right. "No, you are a man. You are a great man; I think you are the best man I will ever know. But still, only one man. No one has that much power over time. No one should."

"That is for me to decide. There is no one else. I am the last of the Time Lords."

"Not anymore."

His shout was like thunder, so loud that she winced. "Well, he's not here now, is he? He chose to go. That leaves just me!"

An upper window in a nearby house opened and a white-haired woman stuck her head out. "Are you all right, dearie? Should I call the police?"

Rose imagined how the tableau looked from above: her kneeling in the street, cold and snow leaching through her suit, while the Doctor loomed over her like an avenging angel. She forced a smile. "No, thank you, ma'am, I'm fine. Just a spat. Sorry to disturb you."

The woman didn't retreat, looked to be debating whether to accept Rose's word or not. The Doctor glared up at her, muttering, "Meddlesome old –"

Rose cut him off. "Don't! Don't you dare. She is just looking out for me. You have no idea what you look like right now."

That startled him. His voice, face, body language all softened. "Am I frightening you?"

"Not me, no. But only because I know you."

He dropped to his haunches, at eye level with her now, and while his voice had lost none of its force, at least it had lost volume. "I want to understand, Rose, I really do. But it doesn't make sense. I could have saved them. I could have averted a tragedy. Why would you prevent that?"

She met his eyes, matched his suppressed intensity. "Do you think I don't care? Do you think that it didn't kill me to see their faces as I shut the door, to hear them screaming for me to let them in? But it was a fixed point. You taught me what that means. It's a law we can't break."

"But that's what I'm trying to say! The Time Lords, the High Council, their arrogance and their narrow-mindedness and their hidebound traditions and statutes – they're all gone. I am not bound by their rules. I can make my own rules now; I can do what I like. There is no one to stop me – well, except you, apparently."

That stung, but she clung to her conviction. "Fixed points are not some arbitrary rule made up by stuffy old parliamentarians. They are a fundamental law of the universe, like gravity, and you can't get away with breaking that law any more than you could get away with jumping out of an airplane without a parachute."

He leapt to his feet, spun in a circle, waving his hands in frustration. "Oh come on, what do you know about it? You're a human." He stretched the last word out, wrinkled his nose, his voice starting to rise again. "What makes you think you know anything at all about fixed points?"

"Because I can feel them!" she shouted.

He froze, eyes wide, mouth hanging open until he shut it with a snap. "How can…? When did…?"

"Ever since I looked into the TARDIS. I didn't know what I was feeling at first, and it's not like we encounter them all that often. But in Pompeii, when you explained what they were, that's when I made the connection."

"You didn't say."

"I guess I was afraid. It's scary, not knowing how I've changed, what else might be different about me. It was easier just to ignore it. But then I felt it again, there on Mars. And that's how I know that it's not just something that some long-gone Gallifreyans made up."

He stared down at her for an eternity, then abruptly turned on his heel and strode into the TARDIS. She sat in the snow, watching the flakes melt on her hands, half expecting to hear the timeship's engines carrying him away from her. But all was silent, and she finally got to her feet and returned to her home.

The Doctor was nowhere in sight. She dragged herself to the bedroom, threw herself across the bed, still in her snow-damp spacesuit, and let all the pent-up anger and fear and guilt and pain come flooding out. At some point in her emotional storm, she heard footsteps come down the corridor, pause outside the door. But then they moved on, and she wept over that as well, until she fell into an exhausted and feverish sleep.


	11. Chapter 11 - The Doctor's Soul

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it.

* * *

Rose awoke feeling hung over. Sometime during the night, the Doctor had removed her spacesuit and tucked a blanket around her. She wondered if that was a sign that he had forgiven her, but decided it could just as well be a simple display of basic kindness.

She started out for the console room, but, feeling in need of fortification, detoured to the kitchen. There she found a pot of tea already brewed, teacup and sugar bowl laid out neatly next to it. _Don't read too much into it, don't get your hopes up. It's just habit to make enough for two._

She entered the console room, clutching the teacup in front of her like a shield. The Doctor was up on a ladder, his back to her, tinkering with the wiring of a roundel. She could tell by the tensing of his shoulders that he was aware of her presence, but he didn't turn around.

"I made tea. Should still be hot," he said.

"I found it, ta."

There was an awkward silence while he did something that she was pretty sure didn't need doing with the wiring. She sat in the jump seat, letting her feet swing free as if she were a kid, wishing that she were.

At last, he said in a neutral tone, "So. I can drop you anywhere you want to go. I'm sure Jack or Mickey would be more than happy to see you. Or Shareen, if you think domestic might be a nice change of pace. Or I can…" He seemed reluctant to go on, then cleared his throat and said, "I can get in touch with Ten Mark Two if you want."

Rose sat in stunned silence through this speech, her gut twisting. She hadn't dared hope that he had forgiven her, but neither had she pictured this outcome. She was still convinced that she had followed the best course – or maybe the least bad course, she allowed. _But even right choices can have some terrible consequences. Maybe this is the price I have to pay._ For a moment, she started to debate the options he had laid out.

Then something inside her rebelled. She hadn't gotten to where she was today by backing down when things got tough. She had fought Slitheen, she had fought Sontarans, she had fought Daleks. She would fight a Gallifreyan if that's what it took to save this relationship. "No."

"No…to the other Doctor? I figured you wouldn't –"

"No to all of them. If you want me gone, you're going to have to pick me up and toss me out. Because I'm not setting foot outside this ship until I'm sure she's still going to be there when I get back."

He turned towards her at last, eyebrows reaching for his hairline. "Want you gone? What in the world makes you think I want that?"

"I know you must be angry – furious, even. And I'll stay out of your way. You can pretend I'm not here. But I'm not leaving. Because as long as I stay, there's hope that someday you might forgive me. But if I go, I know I'll never see you again." She impressed herself with how steady, how even her voice was. She had spent all her tears the night before – there was nothing left but steely resolve.

He stepped off the ladder, started towards her, but stopped halfway. "I'm not angry, Rose. Leastways, not at you. I'm the one who messed up. I should have known better – you did."

"Yes, you made a mistake. So what? If ever there was a time I thought you were perfect, that went out the window when you brought me home after twelve months instead of twelve hours. But I stuck around." She meant to lighten the mood, hoped he would give at least half a smile at the memory, but instead he looked even more pained. She tried a different tack. "Well, if you're not mad at me, then why are you trying to pawn me off on Captain Jack, of all people?"

"Can't imagine why you would want to stay, not after what I did to you."

"To me?" She honestly had no idea what that meant. "What did you do to me?"

"You were sick in the street. You cried yourself to sleep. I did that to you, with the position I put you in back at the base. I heard you crying last night. It broke my hearts, but I couldn't comfort you, not when I was the cause."

"Do you think I would have cared less about their deaths if you hadn't tried to save them?" Privately, she allowed that her memories of the event would be less horrifying if they had walked away sooner, but she wasn't about to admit that to him, guilt-stricken as he already was.

He kicked at the base of the console. "Pure hubris, it was. Pride."

She rolled her eyes. "I took my A-levels in Pete's World, Doctor; I know what hubris means. And it may have been pride that made you think you could get away with it, but it wasn't pride that motivated you; it was your heart. You have twice the heart of anyone else I know. Literally." This time she did get the smallest twitch of a smile from him.

Now that she knew his anger was directed inward rather than at her, she felt herself on firmer ground, ready to rise to the challenge. These demons had been chasing him long enough; it was time to lay them to rest. "Do you remember…" This was still hard to talk about; she took a deep breath and started again. "Do you remember when I nearly destroyed the world, trying to save my father?"

He frowned, turned half away, playing with the controls. "That was different. You didn't know what you were doing."

"That's not true. What I didn't know were the consequences. But I did know that it was wrong, that I shouldn't be mucking about with history. Why do you think I was so defensive? You would have been completely justified in dumping me home in the Powell Estate and never looking back. But you didn't. 'Just tell me you're sorry,' you said, and then you forgave me."

"I am sorry, I really am. But this isn't that simple."

"Why isn't it? You didn't tear a hole in the universe, you didn't open a wound in time. Yes, it hurt, seeing what happened to the colonists. But that wasn't your fault, it wasn't anything you could control."

"It's entirely my fault! You never would have been there, never would have known anything about them, if I hadn't brought you there. Don't you see? All the terrible things you have gone through – watching your father die, being separated from your mother, Daleks and Cybermen, nearly dying on oh so many occasions – they all happened because you were with me."

Rose stood, set her cup on the floor, and started towards him, but he put the console between them again. "Okay, yes, I have had some bad things happen to me since I met you. But guess what? Bad things happened before I met you, too. That's life. But the good things, the beautiful things, the exciting things – I wouldn't trade those for the world."

He went on as if he hadn't heard her, pacing now, too agitated to be still. "If I weren't such a selfish old man, I'd have sent you away a long time ago. Because eventually I destroy everyone I touch. I break them, or I corrupt them, or I get them killed, or I turn them into hollowed-out shells and then tell their grandfather that he can never let them remember me." _Aha_, Rose thought, _now we're getting somewhere._ But the Doctor wasn't done yet; his voice rose, his hands waved. "Didn't you hear Davros? Weren't you listening? I turn people into weapons. I stand back and watch as they die in my name. How can you still be here? How can you stand to be near me? Everyone else leaves; why don't you? Are you still so blind, even after Davros showed you the truth?" He turned away from her, breathing hard, and pressed his forehead against a coral strut.

"Davros? You think I put any stock in a single word that crazy, hateful, homicidal megalomaniac said?" The Doctor didn't raise his head but did give her a sidelong glance, and she flashed him a smile. "Told you I did my A-levels. Got all kinds of fancy vocabulary now."

"He is all of those things, but that doesn't mean he was wrong about me."

"Doctor, there is so much wrong with what you just said that I hardly know where to begin. For one thing, I've never seen you just stand back and watch anything, even when you should. And people dying in your name? Give me one example."

"Harriet Jones."

Rose snorted. "She didn't die for you. She didn't even particularly like you. She gave her life to save the Earth; she just happened to know that getting you there was the best way to do that. Next."

"Jabe."

It took Rose a minute to place the name. "The tree lady from Platform One? She died for all of us, everyone on that platform. Don't you remember what I told Martha? 'We save the Doctor so he can save everyone else.' And sometimes someone dies doing it. And that's tragic; I'm not saying that it's not. But you aren't the cause; most times, you aren't even the motivation. And always we know that you would do the same if the roles were reversed."

"Jenny. She wasn't saving anyone but me."

"Okay, that's true, but how is that your fault?"

"She was born because of me, and she died because of me."

"No, she was born because someone shoved your hand into a machine at gunpoint. And she died because a lunatic couldn't stand the thought of peace. And there was nothing you could do about either of those things. You talk about hubris – what else is it to think that you are directly responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world? Just sheer arrogance that is."

He half-turned, leaned his shoulder against the strut. His arms were tightly folded across his chest, creating a barrier between them, but at least he was looking at her now. He gave her a grimace that she suspected he intended as a smile. "Strong words."

"Yeah, well, I think you need a bit of tough love right now. Okay, next charge: turning people into weapons. I suppose you're talking about Jack and Sarah Jane with the warp star, and Martha with the Oster-thingie?"

"For starters."

"I think Jack was doing pretty well at being a weapon before you ever came along. Do you not remember how close he came to singlehandedly turning all of London into mummy-seeking zombies?"

"Yes, but that was unintentional." But his lips curled in the first genuine smile she had seen from him in over a week.

"The point is, we all make our own choices. Jack has always been a scrapper. Sarah Jane is a mother now, and there's not much a mother won't do to defend her child. Martha was following UNIT's orders, not yours, and I'm not so sure she would have gone through with it, anyway. She could have used that key – should have, according to the protocol – but she offered the Daleks a choice."

She studied his face, saw that he was not convinced. "Doctor, do you remember what I told you when we first found the Nestene Consciousness?" He looked blank. "I said, 'Toss in your anti-plastic and let's go.' Seemed perfectly reasonable to me. I mean, it had already tried to kill us three times. But you said no. You said you weren't there to kill it, you were there to give it a chance. And then a few years went by, and I met another Nestene Consciousness, and another Doctor, with another vial of anti-plastic. And my first thought was, _We've got to destroy it before it hurts anyone._ But my second thought was, _No, we're not here to kill it, we're here to give it a chance._" She closed the distance between them, pried his hands loose from their death grip on his folded arms and held them tightly. He tensed, but didn't pull away. "_That's_ what you do, Doctor. _That's_ what you turn us into. That's the lesson you teach – that there is beauty in every part of creation, and that everyone has the potential for good."

He stared down at her, silent for a long moment, the set of his jaw and brow softer and less grim. "You see more in me than I see in myself."

"Another lesson I learned from the man who looked at a shop girl who was frankly a bit of a chav, and saw someone worthy of journeying the stars."

"I've never regretted that. But I've often feared that you might."

She sighed. "I don't have illusions about you, Doctor. I know you aren't perfect. I've seen you mess up, royally sometimes. I've seen your fury. I know what happened to Gallifrey. I know that you can't always save everyone. And maybe there will even come a day when you can't save me. I understand that. But despite it all, I'd rather be with you than anywhere else, with anyone else. Because you never stop caring, and you never stop trying. So you can shatter a thousand fixed points, you can rage against a million Davroses, and it still won't change how I see you. I'm not going anywhere." She wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his shoulder, and held tight until she felt him relax against her.

"There's only one thing I will grant Davros to be right about," she said after a moment. "When he called your companions your 'children of time'. That's what they are, your children. And everyone leaves you because that's what children do: they grow up and leave home. And it's hard for a parent to watch them go, but that's how you know you did a proper job."

He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "My children of time, all grown up. I like that. As long as we're not including you in that lot."

She laughed. "No, not me, that would just be creepy." She tipped her head back to look at him. "So you're okay, yeah?"

"I think I will be."

"No more running?"

He smiled. "Oh, I can't promise that. There's always lots and lots of running when you travel with me."


	12. Chapter 12 - The Masters

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The End of Time, Parts 1 and 2" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

Rose stared at the ruins of Broadfell Prison, erstwhile home of Lucy Saxon and apparent site of the Master's resurrection. The Ood had summoned the Doctor, tried to warn him in time; but he and Rose had both procrastinated, not wanting to hasten the end, not realizing what was at stake.

Rose kicked viciously at a loose brick. "I hate this. We have a time machine! How can we be too late?"

"Once we enter the time stream–"

"I _understand _it, I just don't _like _it." She kicked another brick, then shook her head. "No, you know what, I don't understand. We were thousands of years away on another planet. How could we be locked into this time stream?"

"It's like the Ood elders said: time is bleeding. Converging. It's all part of the same event. It's all connected to the Master's return."

Rose shivered. The Doctor never spoke much about the year that the Master had ruled the world, but from what she had been able to piece together from him and Jack and Martha, it had been a terrible time. And if she had ever doubted that, all she had to do was see the fear in his eyes now. "Is he there? In your head, I mean. Do you feel the Master?"

"Yes. No. I mean, I feel him. I _smell_ him. But it's not right, it's…I don't know, sickly or something."

"Well, he's insane."

"He's always been that. This is something different. It's –" He was cut off by the sound of banging, metal on metal, a rhythmic four-count. A pause, then the four beats again. Startled eyes met, but neither was willing to voice what they were thinking. _Your song is ending…he will knock four times._

The Doctor took off at top speed, tracking the sound of the drumming, the scent of the Time Lord. Rose caught up with him at the top of a gravel heap in a deserted shipyard. He was staring down a blond man on an adjacent hill. "Is that him?" she whispered, then recoiled in horror as a ghastly green light illuminated the man's skeleton from within.

The Doctor didn't appear to hear her as he appealed to his former friend. "You're burning up your own life force! Please, let me help you."

The Master's only reply was an inarticulate cry. Bolts of light shot from his hands, propelling him high into the sky and out of sight.

Rose gaped. "Is that a Time Lord thing? Can you do that?"

His face was grim. "No, and he shouldn't be able to do either." He took up the chase again. But he only made it as far as the next gravel pile before they found themselves surrounded by a very enthusiastic crowd of senior citizens, who were soon pulling them in for pictures, pinching Rose's cheek, getting handsy with the Doctor, all while Wilfred Mott stood by, beaming with pride. Rose watched the Doctor struggle to break free politely, but from the way his shoulders sagged, she could tell the moment when he had lost the scent.

* * *

The Doctor, Rose at his side, sat across from Wilf in a small café, trying to puzzle out just who this man was and why their paths kept intersecting. "I'm going to die," he blurted out, surprising everyone at the table, himself not least of all. But now that he had started, he couldn't seem to stop, explaining how he could die before regenerating, describing how even regeneration itself felt like death, like everything that made him who he was had gone.

He could feel Rose's eyes boring into him, could almost hear her wondering why he was telling Wilf these thoughts and feelings that he had never before told her, her hurt nearly a tangible thing. _But I _am _telling you, love._ It was just so much easier to deliver his words to a spot over the shoulder of an acquaintance, rather than directly to someone whose life would be so profoundly affected by whatever affected him.

Back at Rattigan Academy, when he had almost sacrificed his own life to stop the Sontarans, he had expected her to be unhappy about the plan, but the sheer vehemence of her reaction had taken him by surprise. He had given the matter plenty of thought since then. He had long ago stopped trying to fool himself about the depth of his feeling for her. But he was still coming to realize the depth of hers for him. She had gambled everything on their future, and if he were to leave her alone… So now, on top of his natural fear of his own mortality, there was the guilt of knowing how his death would tear her apart, and that was nearly more than he could bear.

And then, as if his day weren't going badly enough, there was Donna outside the café, arguing with a meter maid, and Wilfred pleading with the Doctor to fix her, to restore her memory. _Last thing I need right now, to be reminded of yet another relationship lost, of another friend gone forever. _

He took a deep breath and gave the old man the painful truth, every word catching in his throat. "What I did to her, for her, Wilf…It was the best I could do. And it wasn't good enough, I know, and I am so very, very sorry. But there was nothing more I could do then, and there still isn't. It's not enough, but it's all I have."

Rose said, "You don't know how many sleepless nights he's spent going over every angle. It wasn't the ending that any of us wanted. It wasn't the ending that she deserved." She paused, then continued, "But then, it's not really the ending after all, is it? She is safe and she is alive, and she has a good life and people who love her. She has a world of potential before her. He was able to give her that." And the Doctor got the feeling that she wasn't really talking to Wilf now. She leaned into him, shoulder pressed against shoulder, arm through his, and he took comfort in the contact, in the reminder that, with all he had lost throughout the years, there was one very important thing he had gained.

* * *

The Doctor was silent on the trip back to the TARDIS, but Rose caught him several times raising his head and inhaling deeply, as if he were scenting something on the wind. In the console room, he input a destination and the timeship shuddered in a short hop. Rose checked the monitor and realized that they were back in the same wasteland where they had seen the Master earlier.

"He's here?" she asked quietly.

He nodded and headed for the door; but as she started to follow, he turned back. "Please, Rose. I need you to wait here. I need to see him alone."

"No way. We're a team. We help each other, watch each other's backs. How many times have I saved you?"

"No question about that. But the best help you can give me right now is to stay here, out of the Master's reach. He won't…at least, I don't think he will kill me. But he won't hesitate to use you against me. He did it with Jack, with Martha's family. I couldn't bear it if…Please, promise me you'll stay here."

It was the expression on his face that did her in. In her time with the Doctor, she had seen a multitude of his expressions: imperious, affectionate, angry, amused, cajoling, condescending, compassionate. But pleading was a rarity, and one against which she had no defence. She stepped back and watched the door close behind him.

An eternity had passed, or perhaps it was only half an hour, when the sound of a helicopter, low and near, roused Rose from her worried pacing. The monitor failed to display a good view of the action, so she ran to the door and threw it open, just in time to hear the sound of automatic gunfire and to see the Doctor dancing away from the bullets spraying around his feet.

As she spotted a black-clad commando type running up behind him, she opened her mouth to call a warning, but it was too late. The Doctor went down, poleaxed. And as she ran to him, she saw the helicopter pulling away, reeling in a captive Master like a fish on a line.

She dropped to her knees next to the Doctor, wondering if there were any way to drag him back to the TARDIS without further injuring him. Fortunately, she didn't have to try. His eyes soon fluttered open and he sat up half-way. She slid in behind him so that when he inevitably collapsed back down with a groan, his head was cushioned in her lap.

"The Master?" His voice was tight, pained.

"Some paramilitary-looking lot grabbed him."

He closed his eyes and grunted in response.

She stroked his hair from his forehead. "Any idea who they were, what they want with him?"

He was silent long enough that she feared he had lost consciousness again. But then he opened his eyes. "Only one place I can think of where we might be able to find an answer to that question."

"Downing Street? Buckingham Palace?"

"Wilfred Mott's."

* * *

The visit to Wilf's proved productive, yielding both a possible lead on the Master's whereabouts, in the form of Joshua Naismith's book jacket picture, which they recognized from the Ood's vision, and a new companion, in the form of Wilf himself.

As the TARDIS materialized in the stables of the Naismith estate, Rose cast a severe look at the Doctor. "Now, you aren't going to try to leave me behind again, are you?"

"Considering how well things worked out the last time?" he asked, touching the lump on the back of his head with a grimace. "Not a chance."

In the basement of the mansion, they found some very advanced technology and a pair of scientists that a flick of the sonic screwdriver revealed to be aliens. "Cactus people!" was Wilf's reaction, and Rose bit back a smile. In the not too distant past, she would have thought the same. But now they looked to her like just another type of being, their differences not so far removed from the variety of shapes and sizes and colors that made up her own species.

She tried to follow the Vinvocci's explanation of the gate the Master was repairing. Its ostensible purpose was easy enough to understand; it sounded like the Hipocci version of Chula nanogenes. But there had to be something more to spark the Master's interest. And then the Vinvocci woman said it: "It transmits the medical template across the entire population." Rose started running in the same instant as the Doctor. She still didn't know what the Master wanted with the gate, but she knew without a doubt that anything that could affect an entire population should never be within a thousand miles of the Master.

She had become a respectable runner since the days when she had been outraced by Van Statten's bunker door, but she still couldn't match the Doctor's long-legged stride. By the time she arrived at the main lab, the Master was tearing off his straitjacket and taking an impossibly long leap into the gate.

And then everyone around her began acting oddly. The Naismiths, the other scientists, the guards – they were all looking blank, shaking their heads strangely. Wilf arrived behind her, panting, and he alone seemed able to articulate what was happening: "He's inside my head. I can see his face."

The Doctor tried frantically to shut the machinery down while the Master taunted him. "How are you doing this?" the Doctor cried. "Hypnotism? Mind control?"

The Master seemed delighted that his fellow Time Lord still couldn't see his plan. "They not going to _think_ like me. They're going to _become _me!"

Rose had no idea what that meant, but she could tell by the Doctor's sudden tensing that he did. "Both of you, into that control booth now!" he ordered his two companions, locking himself into the other side in order to open the door for them.

They obeyed, and Rose noticed that Wilf's distress and confusion cleared at once. "Radiation shielding," the Doctor said. "Now press that button so that I can get out."

She realized what that would mean, and dived out the door just before Wilf pressed the button. "Rose!" the Doctor shouted in frustration.

"Whatever it is, it's not affecting me!" she shouted back. "And you're not leaving me trapped in there while you face this alone!" She opened his door and pulled him out.

His surprise and curiosity blocked out everything else happening around them. "You're right, it's not affecting you, is it? Why isn't it affecting you?"

"And what exactly _is_ affecting them?" she whispered in horror, as all the humans in the room began to vibrate, blurring in fast motion, before finally resolving into…the Master. Everywhere she turned, the Master. Every face she saw, the Master. Every form that advanced on her while the Doctor shielded her in his arms, the Master. She clung to the only person who could understand what it was to lose one's entire race in one fell swoop, until a dozen Masters pulled them apart.


	13. Chapter 13 - Into the Vortex

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The End of Time, Parts 1 and 2" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

Rose was a bit uncomfortable, bound to the chair as she was, but she was still better off than the Doctor, who was confined to a chair gurney, strapped down so tightly that he couldn't move his head. She figured the gag had to be the worst part for him; the Doctor liked nothing better than to run his mouth at times like these.

The Master paced in front of her. "So. You somehow escaped my change. Who are you, anyway, the Doctor's concubine?"

Rose huffed. Why did people so often want to classify her as some sort of sex slave? "I'm his _wife_, you prat. His companion. Full partners."

The Master burst out laughing. "Oh, she's feisty, isn't she?" he said to the Doctor. "You always did like the feisty ones." The Doctor rolled his eyes. The Master looked back to Rose. "But tell me, why are you still you instead of me? What did he do to you?"

Rose glanced over at the Doctor. He blinked with exaggerated slowness, and she hoped she was right in interpreting that as _Go ahead, tell him_. The truth was, she wasn't quite sure of just how she differed from the rest of humanity, but she figured there was only one event that could be the why. "He didn't do anything; it was me. I looked into the heart of the TARDIS."

"Into the Time Vortex? Impossible," he scoffed. "Not even a Time Lord could survive that."

"You're right. He didn't."

He stared at her, trying to divine whether she was telling the truth, then gave a blasé shrug. "Well, it's not like it's such a big deal. I've looked into the Time Vortex too, and I was just a child at the time."

"The Un…the Un…" Rose squinted, trying to remember what the Doctor had told her about the Gallifreyan rite of passage.

"The Untempered Schism. It burned, oh, did it burn. But I survived. And that was when I first heard the drumbeats, calling me."

Rose tried her best to look awestruck. She had asked the Doctor once why he had survived the Untempered Schism but not the heart of the TARDIS; he had compared it to the difference between watching the sun through a filter and staring straight into it. But if the Master wanted to boast about his experience, to make himself feel superior to the puny human woman, she figured it was the course of wisdom to let him.

He seemed hesitant to give her a chance to tell a story that could eclipse his own, but his curiosity got the best of him. "And how did a weak little thing like you survive looking into the TARDIS?"

"The Doctor. He absorbed the Time Vortex for me. I looked into the Vortex to save him, and then he absorbed the Vortex to save me. That's what we do. We help each other. We make each other better. You could be part of that." Her voice was soft, cajoling. "Not alone anymore. To travel the universe together, to see and do such amazing things together, our own little tribe…you could be part of that."

For a moment, she thought she was getting through to him. But then the ringing of a mobile broke the connection. The Master looked around for the source of the noise and spotted Wilf, still in the nuclear bolt control booth, frantically fumbling through his pockets. "Get him out of there," he snapped at one of his doppelgangers, and in a flash Wilf was tied to a chair by Rose's side, while the Master connected the call.

Donna's voice, fearful and confused, filled the room as Wilf pleaded with her to run. The Master raised a mocking brow at the Doctor. "Another one? Just how many Earth girls have you messed with, Doctor?" Since the only response the Doctor was capable of at the moment was a frown, it was left to Rose to stumble through an explanation of the metacrisis. Not that it mattered – the Master was more interested in eliminating Donna than in understanding her.

Rose's tension grew along with Donna's panic as a street full of Masters closed in on the former companion and memories that had to stay buried began to resurface. There was a scream and a sharp crackle of energy, and all went silent. Rose's heart stopped. But then she saw the Doctor's eyes crinkling in what could only be a smile under the gag. The Master saw it too, and the wink that the Doctor threw him, and pulled the gag off.

"That's better," the Doctor said, flexing his jaw appreciatively. He took a moment to reassure a disconsolate Wilf that Donna's collapse was according to plan, that she was safe from both her attackers and herself, before turning his attention back to the Master.

"Where is the TARDIS?" the Master demanded.

But the Doctor ignored the question in favour of trying to get through to the man beneath the madness. His approach was not that different from Rose's, but she sensed that he felt it more deeply. He wasn't just trying to talk down a madman; he was appealing to a friend, reaching out to a childhood comrade. Rose had no doubt of his love for her, but she recognized that he would forever bear a Gallifrey-shaped hole in his hearts. She felt she could forgive the Master a multitude of sins if only he could fill in at least some small piece of that gap.

The faraway look in his eyes made her think he might be coming around; for a moment, she could glimpse the boy who had run with the young Doctor on the hills of Gallifrey. But the drumbeats, so loud, so insistent, soon drowned out the Doctor's voice again.

The TARDIS was the price the Master demanded for Rose's life. She couldn't imagine how the Doctor could possibly get her out of this one when he could barely even twitch, but his insouciance gave her hope that he could somehow reach the trick he always had up his sleeve. And then help came from the most unexpected quarter: the helmeted guard with the gun turned out to be, not yet another Master, but Rossiter the Vinvocci. His moment of triumph over the Master was rather undermined by his nervous babbling about it, but Rose wasn't about to begrudge him that.

The Vinvocci woman, Addams, made short work of Rose's and Wilf's bonds, but the Doctor was not as lucky. Confounded by the multitude of buckles and unnerved by Addams' urgency, Rossiter opted to simply start pushing the gurney with the protesting Doctor still strapped in.

As the Vinvocci headed for the basement, the Doctor yelled, "No, the other way! We have to go the other way! My TARDIS – I've got a ship."

"And we've got a teleport," snapped Addams. "We can be 100,000 miles away in the blink of an eye."

"No, listen! We have to– Wait, stop! Listen to me! I– Rose!"

Rose put on a burst of speed to catch up to them, and hip-checked Rossiter out of the way. The chair's momentum dragged her along, but she dug her heels in and managed to stop them just short of the basement stairs. "Come with us or not, your choice," she shouted at the Vinvocci as she spun the chair around.

"Not!" said Addams, and they vanished into the basement.

"You need to get the sonic screwdriver," the Doctor told Rose as they fled. "Setting 52C will bring the TARDIS back into time sync." With Wilf helping push, Rose was able to reach forward and pull the screwdriver out of the Doctor's jacket. She hit the switch as they rounded the corner of the stables, and the TARDIS shimmered back into existence. "Good, now 4451 to unlock."

The remote lock may have failed to amuse Ood Sigma, but it saved them now. Because just before they reached their goal, two Masters stepped in front of them. The trio never slowed. One clone dived out of the way at the last second, but the other refused to yield. The gurney swept him off his feet; both Time Lords grunted in pain, and the Master fell off to the side. Rose hit the switch to unlock, the TARDIS blooped its acknowledgment, and they were inside before the clones could regain their feet. Wilf slammed the doors closed, and they were safe.

"We're not safe!" shouted the Doctor.

"What do you mean?"

"The TARDIS is a tough old girl, but I don't know about her chances if he throws the entire world's arsenals at her."

"I'm on it." Rose headed for the console. "Wilf–"

"Right, I'll sort him."

The Doctor fidgeted impatiently while Wilf's stiff old fingers worked the buckles; he bounded to the console as soon as he was free. "The Vortex. Smart girl. You're turning into quite a good pilot."

She beamed at his praise.

"So what's the plan?" Wilf asked. The Doctor's smile faded. "Oh, come on, I know you. There's always a plan. Some brilliant scheme, some piece of flim-flam that the Master will never see coming, some…" He trailed off at the look on the Doctor's face. "Oh blimey."


	14. Chapter 14 - Gallifrey Returning

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The End of Time, Parts 1 and 2" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

Some time later, Wilf wandered back into the control room, looking like he had seen a ghost – in fact, he wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't. He found the Doctor lying on his back under the console, tinkering with something. "What are you doing?"

"Recalibrating. She doesn't like it when I put her out of sync – gives her a touch of indigestion. Always needs some tuning after."

Wilf sighed, sank down to the floor, wrapped his arms around his knees. The Doctor pulled himself out from under the console to sit beside him and cast him a concerned look. "They're all still down there. My daughter – she's turned into him now. My granddaughter – she's the only human left there, she's all alone."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Isn't it?" The Doctor pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of the world and every one of his 906 years.

* * *

Rose entered the console room bearing a tray of tea things, just in time to hear the Doctor say, "Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long."

"Don't say that!" Wilfred's voice was breaking. "Please, Doctor. If the Master is going to kill you… You have to… I don't want you to die!" He was pressing an antique handgun on the Doctor, but the Time Lord shook his head.

"I can't," he said, voice infinitely gentle.

Rose set the tray down on the jump seat, afraid it would slip from her nerveless fingers. The Doctor had acted in self-defence before, but she knew this time was different. This time he was facing one who had been a friend, a brother. The Doctor had already been responsible once for exterminating the Time Lords, and it had nearly destroyed him. Now to contemplate eliminating the one survivor – and this particular survivor, at that – well, Rose could only imagine how excruciating, how unthinkable, that would be to him. She didn't know what to say, what to do, how to support him in this crisis, so she did the one thing she could. "Tea?" She held the steaming cup out to him.

"Ah, thank you, love," he said, attempting to return to his normal cheerful tone. "Nothing like tea to soothe the soul in times of trouble. Her mum's tea saved my life once," he told Wilf with a confidential air as Rose offered the other man a cup as well. The Doctor took a few sips, then sprang to his feet. "Well, can't hide in the Vortex forever. Sooner or later we've got to go sort this out, no time like the present. Relatively speaking."

* * *

The TARDIS hovered in geosynchronous orbit about 100,000 miles above England – close enough that her crew could observe the lay of the land, but far enough to have plenty of warning if any missiles were launched their way.

Rose, declaring the monitor not big enough, had thrown the doors open and now stood on the threshold, staring down on an Earth devoid of humanity. The Doctor came to stand behind her, hands on her shoulders.

"_A star fell from the sky…" _The unexpected voice made him whirl around and head for the console.

Wilfred wrung his hands in despair. "That's the Master! He's found us."

The Doctor studied the monitor. "I don't think so. Seems to be an open broadcast. Just hush and listen." But as soon as the Master mentioned the whitepoint star, the Doctor knew the time for listening was gone – now was the time for action.

"Rose, shut the doors," he ordered, and threw the TARDIS into motion.

"What is a whitepoint star?" she asked as she complied.

"A type of diamond found only on Gallifrey."

"But Gallifrey is gone."

"Remember what the Ood said."

"He is returning." She sounded confused.

"And?"

"And…it is returning…and they are returning," she remembered slowly, comprehension dawning. "Gallifrey? The Time Lords? But how?"

So he explained: how the drumbeat created a link between the Master on Earth and the Time Lords in the timelock, how the star could follow the drums and Gallifrey could follow the star. He stopped there, hoped she could fill in the rest on her own.

Wilf couldn't. "But that's good, isn't it? Your people coming back?"

The Doctor didn't reply, just kept his gaze fixed on Rose, willing her to hear what he could not bring himself to say about his own race. _Please don't make me speak it aloud. Please understand._ And he could see that she did. Not completely, of course – how could she possibly know the details of the horrors his people had wrought towards the end of the war, of the degradations they had sunk to? – but enough to understand why he had done what he had done, why he now had to do what he was about to do.

Still without breaking eye contact with Rose, he stretched out his hand towards Wilf. "Wilfred, your gun." And she who knew him so well, who saw his virtues and his flaws and his joys and his torments – a shadow crossed her face, but she made no protest.

She followed him to the door, but gasped and jumped back when she saw where they were – hovering fifty feet in the air above the glass ceiling of the Naismiths' gate room. "Why are we up here?"

"Can't materialize in there. The sound of the TARDIS announcing our coming – there would be fifty Masters just waiting to force their way in as soon as I opened the door. Can't materialize on the lawn – I'd have to fight my way through, and I don't like my odds on that. This is the only sure way in. And I've got to get in fast. That's my one chance: to stop him before he can pull the Time Lords through."

"And you can survive that drop?" she asked, edging closer to the threshold and peering down, her doubt written in her face.

"Oh sure. I think." He gave her a manic grin and jumped before either of them could think better of it.

* * *

Rose gripped the door frame and leaned as far out as she dared. She saw him crash through the roof, glass shards flying everywhere. She saw him land spread-eagle on the floor with a force that she was sure had cracked at least a couple of ribs. She saw him try to rise, gun in hand, only to collapse back down. She saw that he was just a moment too late; the gate was already full of Time Lords. She saw the Master on one side and the Time Lords on the other, watching him in surprise and contempt. That was enough. She headed for the console. "He needs us, Wilf. We've got to go help him."

"Aye, I'm with you. But you really think we have a chance of making it inside?"

_Not hardly._ But she at least had to try. "All those Master clones are going to be focused on the Doctor. They won't be paying much attention to a couple of humans." _Say it with enough confidence, maybe it will come true._

But as it turned out, there were no Master clones. As they stepped out onto the lawn, a glorious variety of faces began pouring out of the mansion.

"Humans! They're all human! The Doctor did it!" Wilf was almost skipping for joy.

Rose wasn't cheering yet. Humanity had been restored, true, but judging by the panic of the crowd, she doubted that the crisis had passed, wasn't even sure that the Doctor was responsible for whatever had happened.

They struggled upstream against the tide of people fleeing the building. By the time they reached the gate room, just one human remained: the poor sap locked into the nuclear bolt, pleading for help. Wilfred, kind soul that he was, didn't hesitate to take his place, despite the Doctor's protests. Which left Rose standing there alone, wanting to help but unsure of what to do. The Doctor was at least sitting up now, although looking decidedly the worse for the wear.

She listened in horror as he tried to make the Master understand what the return of Gallifrey would entail, the nightmares that would follow in its wake. In his voice she heard anger, but also defeat, hopelessness. The gun that had cost him so much to take up in the first place now lay forgotten on the floor. She snatched it up, stood over him, ready to defend him to the end against all threats.

The leader of the Time Lords spared her a glance and a sneer. "Who is this upstart?"

"Leave her alone, Rassilon. I'm warning you." The Doctor was still on the floor, but his voice sounded a bit stronger.

The president laughed. "_You're _warning me? _She's_ the one with the gun, my Lord Doctor." Then to Rose: "You honestly think you can stand against us, human?"

"I don't know. But I'm certainly going to try."

Her stand didn't last long. A bolt of light from Rassilon's gauntlet, a burst of pain in her hand, and the gun flew from her grasp to land in the Doctor's lap. She was dimly aware of the exchange between Rassilon and the Master regarding the Time Lords' final plan as she sank to her knees next to the Doctor. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "I wanted to help, I wanted to save you."

"You did," he said, and he was sitting up straighter, looking stronger. "You reminded me what I am fighting for." His hand wrapped around the gun; and in one smooth motion he was on his feet, ready to do whatever it took, ready to lay down his life to save the world, to save the universe, to save Rose.


	15. Chapter 15 - The Song Never Ends

**Chapter Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own Doctor Who and make no profit from it. Some plot points and bits of dialogue respectfully borrowed from the episodes "The End of Time, Parts 1 and 2" by Russell T Davies.

* * *

Rose awoke to find the Doctor curled protectively around her. He stroked her hair away from her face, looking relieved to see her blink blearily up at him. "You're alive!"

She gave him a small smile. "You too."

"I'm alive! You're alive! We're all ali-" _Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap._ The Doctor's face went rigid. They both sat up slowly and turned to see Wilf, still in the control chamber, knocking on the glass and waving hesitantly.

"If you could, uh, let me out…"

"Yeah." The Doctor's voice was barely more than a whisper as he pulled himself to his feet and then held out his hand to help Rose up.

"Only this thing seems to be making a bit of a noise."

Rose watched as the Doctor paced in front of the control booth, diagnosing the pending nuclear overload. "The screwdriver, Doctor. Can't you get him out with the screwdriver?"

"It's too far gone. Even that would set it off."

And that was when Rose had to face the truth she had known as soon as she had heard the knock: that the subject of the prediction, the bringer of death, was not the Master or Rassilon or any of the Doctor's innumerable enemies; it was innocent, good-hearted Wilfred, whose selfless, thoughtless action was forcing the Doctor into an impossible choice.

She watched him lash out at Wilf, and remembered what she had told Jack on their first adventure together – _When he's stressed, he likes to insult species_ – and hoped that the other man wouldn't take it personally. She watched him storm across the room, railing against his fate. And she saw the moment when he made peace with what he had to do. Wilf saw it too, and began to protest.

"Lived too long," the Doctor breathed as he headed for the control booth. _Not nearly long enough,_ Rose wanted to scream.

He stopped in front of her, took her hands, looking older and more tired than she had ever seen him. Her eyes were swimming with tears; she tried desperately not to let her face crumble. "It will all be fine, Rose."

"Don't lie to me," she whispered fiercely, "Not about this."

He sighed, unable to meet her eyes. "I…I could regenerate. It would mean a change, but we've been through that before, you and I, and it turned out okay." But she could read the uncertainty in his face: he didn't know if he would come out of the chamber. He didn't know if this was the end. When she remained silent, he looked at her again. "With the Sontarans…you ordered me not to go. Bit cheeky, you were." He gave her a weak smile and she tried to return it. "Find another way, you said."

"Is there another way?"

"No."

He still stood before her, waiting, and she knew what he was waiting for. He needed her acceptance, her blessing on his decision. She could beg him not to do this, not to sacrifice himself. And between her pleading and his own survival instinct, he might acquiesce. But if he did, he would never be the same man. The man she had fallen in love with so very long ago was ever willing to put his life on the line for complete strangers, for sworn enemies. If he now turned his back on a friend, his body would survive, but his spirit would be forever broken. And if she were the cause of that, her own spirit would break as well.

"Wilf isn't a Sontaran." She laid her hand against his cheek. "And you are called the Doctor for good reason. So go, save a life. And whatever happens, know that I've never been more proud of you."

He drew himself up tall at those words, gave her a tender kiss, stepped into the chamber, releasing Wilfred. Rose clung to the old man, not wanting to watch but unable to tear her eyes away as the Doctor writhed and collapsed under the onslaught of the radiation. The sound of the booth powering down reminded her of the Sontaran teleport, and for a moment she thought he had shared the clone's fate. But then he gradually unfolded himself from the floor, opened the door, staggered out, and she threw herself into his arms. The force of it knocked him back against the glass, but his grip on her was reassuringly strong.

Wilf was overjoyed to see him alive. "Safe and sound!" he said. And Rose was happy as well. But when the Doctor's cuts and bruises all disappeared with a rub of his hands, she knew he had not come through unscathed.

She kept up a brave smile until they had dropped Wilfred off with a promise to see him again. The smile faded as she closed the door of the TARDIS, shutting out the world outside. "What did you mean just now, about getting your reward?"

He was already setting the coordinates for their next destination, and he was silent for a long minute. Then he met her eyes, bracing himself on the console, shoulders hunched. "What I said to Wilf the other day, about regeneration feeling like dying…So long I've lived, so many lives have touched mine. But always moving on – I do, or they do. And then I change. And even if I meet them again, they don't know me. I've gone." He sighed, looked down, looked back up. "I've got a little more time left. I'd like…I'd like to see them again, the ones who have known this face, one last time, while they can still recognize me."

"That's a wonderful idea." Her throat was so tight, it was painful to speak.

"I'm sorry. I know this is as hard on you as it is on me."

"It's what makes you the Doctor. I wouldn't have you any other way." She stepped close to him as he doubled over in sudden pain, took his hand in hers, squeezed comfortingly.

He slowly relaxed as the spasm passed, and stared down at their joined hands. "First time I met you, very first thing I did, before I had even spoken a word to you, was to take your hand. And even back then, I knew there was something special about it. Like a lifeline to a drowning man."

"I won't let go," she promised.

And she didn't.

She held his hand as he saved Martha and Mickey from a Sontaran soldier.

She held his hand as he waved goodbye to Sarah Jane after rescuing her son from a speeding car.

She held his hand as he introduced Jack to a new friend.

She held his hand as he inquired after a woman who had held his affection when his love for Rose had been a ghostly memory buried in watchwork.

She held his hand as he said a final farewell to Wilf and smiled wistfully at Donna in her wedding finery.

She held his hand as he staggered through the street towards the TARDIS, bearing him up as his time and strength ran short and weeping with him at the ethereal beauty of the Ood's song of comfort.

She held his hand right up until the moment that he warned her that the time had come. Then as the golden glow began to light up his body, she stepped back, clinging to a coral strut as a poor substitute for her Doctor.

As his body shuddered with the forces gathering within, his eyes met hers with a pleading expression, his voice breaking in anguish. "I don't want to go!"

_I don't want you to go either_, she wanted to reply, but it hardly seemed a consoling thing to say at this moment. So instead she choked out the one truth that mattered: "I will always love you!" But she wasn't sure that he even heard her as the light flared from his body.

Granted, she had just one previous regeneration to compare against, but this one was so very violent. She wondered why he had not prepared her for it, wondered if even he had suspected what would happen. He seemed to be at the center of a storm, shafts of light like thunderbolts erupting from him to strike the console, the ceiling, the struts. Pieces of the TARDIS began to collapse around her as the timeship itself pitched and yawed wildly. And he stood in the middle of it all, the familiar features resolving themselves into new ones as the light began to recede.

Finally, the turmoil within him abated, even as the turmoil around him raged on. The Eleventh Doctor stood before her, still tall, still angular, with a mop of blond hair that seemed even more unruly than its predecessor. He gave her a grin, so new and so familiar, and threw his arms wide open. "Well? What do you think?"

"I think you've done a right job on the TARDIS," she said dryly.

He glanced around, noticing the chaos for the first time, and his eyes widened. "So I have. I suppose I'll need to take care of that. But more importantly – how do I look?"

She rolled her eyes but decided to play along. "Two arms, two legs." She let go of the strut and let the next lurch of the TARDIS carry her into him. "One head, two lips." She proved that with a kiss, then tilted her head with a considering look. "Still not ginger, though."

The TARDIS once again yawed violently, almost flinging Rose across the room, but the Doctor held her firmly against him with one arm while the other anchored them to the console. "Well, can't have everything, I suppose," he said with a twinkle in his eye. But then his expression sobered, became almost nervous, as he continued quietly, "But just tell me this: Am I the Doctor?"

The question puzzled her. He had told her that his memory was often quite hazy for a time after regeneration, but surely he couldn't be confused about his own identity, could he? But then she saw the anxiety in his eyes and remembered her reaction to his previous regeneration: her suspicion; her aloofness; how, even after her head had realized that he was still the same man, her heart had rebelled and mourned. And she understood what he was really saying now: _Please recognize me. Please accept me._ She traced his unfamiliar jawline with one finger and smiled at him. "Still my Doctor. Always my Doctor. Forever my Doctor." She punctuated each confirmation with a kiss.

He let out a triumphant whoop that was cut short when the TARDIS slammed to a shuddering halt and the horizontal turned nearly vertical and they went sliding and tumbling down a corridor that had become a chute. The journey came to an abrupt stop in the library swimming pool. Rose surfaced, sputtering, to see the Doctor treading water, his eyes half covered by a curtain of wet hair. "Blimey, that was a new experience," she said between gasps.

The Doctor didn't seem to notice; he was busy tugging at his hair, crossing his eyes to look at it. "You're right, definitely not ginger," he said with a disappointed moue.

"If it's that important to you, I could bop you over the head and you could try again."

He giggled at that – _this Doctor giggles, _Rose noted – and reached for her to squeeze her tight. "Thanks for the offer. But I've muddled through ten lifetimes of not being ginger; I suppose I can make it through an eleventh."

Rose stared up at the corridor stretching away above their heads. "So how are we supposed to get back to the console room, do you think?"

"We'll have to climb for it. Pretty sure I've got a grappling hook around here somewhere." He swam to the edge of the pool, jumped out gracefully, and headed for the cupboard on the far wall.

After all this time with the Doctor, she would have thought he could do nothing to surprise her, but somehow he still managed it time and again. "You keep a grappling hook in the library?"

He looked around at her, seeming baffled by the question. "Of course. Where else would I keep it?"

She grinned. New face, new body, new voice, new quirks, but still the same old Doctor. She pulled herself out of the pool as he tossed the hook far overhead. "I was thinking," she said casually, "If you can't be ginger, maybe we should see if we can find ourselves a ginger companion. You know, just to have a splash of color around the place."

He tugged on the rope to make sure the hook was firmly in place, then turned to her and planted a sound kiss on her forehead. "It's those kinds of brilliant ideas that made me invite you along in the first place, Rose Tyler. One ginger companion, coming right up!"

And with that they began the long climb up towards their next adventure.


End file.
